The Secret Lives Of The Seven Survivors
by Katey-Kinz
Summary: The Title sucks, I know. Basically, Billy has a pet goat, and still struggles to explain his feelings to Clear about her, Carter and his Mum throw eggs at Alex's face, Alex and Tod sneak into a bar and tell a load of lies to Anton the Barman, and the Nine
1. Chapter One

First things first. Hello everybody who actually bothers to read these. But then we come to the real test. Who is truly the saddest? You, for reading this, or me, for writing it? Probably me. But then, I truly am the biggest Final Destination fan in the world. Try and beat me if you want, but I don't think that there is anyone else who likes it as much as I do. Don't believe me? Well.....

•I have seen the movie 38 times.

•I have written five FD fanfics

•Got the DVD and Video

•Spent about £30.00 on my FD resources

•Printed the whole script off the internet

•I know all the script word for word virtually

•I know the whole cast list

•All the words to every song in the film, including John Denver (Unfortunately and unintentionally)

•every little background detail

•I have picked extras that annoy me eg. Various women on the plane and certain people who stare at Alex at the memorial service.

•I have invented two games, 1) Throw the rag- You throw a cloth at characters when they're annoying you. 2) The Stoner Game- Pause the DVD at various times trying to make the characters looked stoned. Sad aren't I?

•I got the top score on this quiz on the internet about it

•I talk about it my whole life and dream about it

•Whenever I get the chance I write about it

•For my SAT's I wrote about me having a premonition and getting thrown off a plane. Sound familiar? Hey, I'll know what to thank if I get a level 8 though, won't I?

•I watch ANYTHING with any of the characters in. Even if I don't like it, I watch it. Eg. Disturbing Behaviour, Varsity Blues, Idly Hands, Dawson's Creek, Drop Dead Gorgeous, Roswell, American Pie, Road Trip. Yes, I liked all those things but the only reason I watched them was because they had people out of Final Destination in.

•Everything I sign up for, I give myself the username 'flight180'

•I have made a website about it, at _www.finaldestinationfansite.homestead.com/fd.html_

•I have put pictures from it on my desktop

And so on and so forth. In fact, there is nothing in the world that would make me happy more than meeting the cast and being an extra in the sequel. So, any fat cat's reading this who could help me out there, you know the address to write to, flight_180@hotmail.com. PLEASE!!!! I am completely and utterly devoted to the movie and I love it. 

The only thing that is scaring me now is that for my holiday to Ibiza, I am on flight 188A. 

****

Characters I _don't _own: Alex, Clear, Tod, Carter, Terry, Billy, Ms. Lewton, George, you know. All those people. These characters belong to Jeffrey Reddick, Glen Morgan and James Wong,or Warren and Zide productions or even New Line Cinema or whatever. 

****

Characters I own that I made up myself: Cynthia Paster (Okay, so the name was used in the movie but I created the character) Tyler, the member of Nine Inch Nails that probably doesn't exist, Carter's little annoying brother, Terry's thirteen year old sister, Anton the barman, Kate and David Horton (cos I made up their first names) , Monsieur Glasion, Mr. Doggett the headmaster, Mr. G. Ayfool the truant officer, Mrs. Paster, Fluffy-Billy's pet goat, Dr. Schreck the psychiatrist, the names Cletus, Brandine and Joey a.k.a Alex's ridiculous story.

****

Spoilers: Er.........Yes. I think you could say that. If you haven't seen the movie you might not understand parts of this, and there are a lot of references to events and characters in the movie itself. Aswell as that there are tie ins from other movies, so in actual fact it has spoilers not only for Final Destination, but also for Idle Hands and Amercian Pie etc.

Anyway, that's boring. Let's just cut straight to the chase shall we?

****

Waiting For A Final Destination. Yes, It's Another Obsessive Story

Alex was getting bored out of his mind at home. The crappy plastic monkeys hanging from his bedroom ceiling had stopped being fun and just got boring. He was convinced they were plotting his doom, late at night when he was in bed. Then again, he could be going insane. 

Linda and Jerry Waggner had forbidden Tod to see Alex since the plane crash. Jerry had got some ridiculous idea in his head that somehow George's death was all Alex's fault......Hmmm, wonder where he got that from?

Anyway, Alex had no friends left in the world now. He had always tried to delude himself that he was quite a popular guy, but now he realised he was the saddest in the class, which quite frankly, hurt his feelings.

__

The World Famous Author's Notes: Well, I've learnt to live with my unpopularity, it takes time, but you get over it.

Oh, not to mention his head, as Carter had kicked it in quite a lot since the crash. Alex really had begun to hate the guy, not that he'd ever liked him, but Carter had got it into his head that Alex was some kind of evil fortune teller. He was called the 'Freak' at school nowaday's. Even by Ms. Lewton. In English Class she ignored him and gave him 'F's at every opportunity. Nice.

Alex sighed and stood up. He was trying to write a story on the computer about this film that he was obsessed with. He had forgotten what it was called but he knew it was about this girl who just lived a normal life at this house in Lancaster and who never revised for any tests. His favourite part, was when the girl got into trouble for going past some chairs that said 'Exams' on them, and getting into trouble with the Language Teacher.

He knew he had been born with obsessive tendencies to his personality, but he didn't really care. He had the DVD of this particular film, the video, he had printed the whole script off the internet, he knew most of the script as well, he knew the cast list, he wrote stories and parodies and plays, basically everything you could possibly imagine. 

He stared at the sea of words on the moniter screen. He had just written the part where the main character had got her Science SAT's exam the next day and instead of revising wrote stories on her computer.

Suddenly, there was a crash, and a something which sounded suspiciously like the shattering of glass.

"Hmm," Alex thought aloud. "That sounded suspiciously like the shattering of glass."

And low and behold, he was damn right. Alex turned around and noticed a brick on the floor. Calmly, he walked over to it and picked it up. There was a note on the brick, being held on by an elastic band. Carefully, he slipped it off and opened the note.

'Tell the future can you? Bet you didn't see that one coming,' the note read.

"Pathetic," Alex sighed to himself, shaking his head. "Oh well, I'll put it with the others."

He walked over to a shelf and placed the brick next to about ten other bricks, each one labelled with a date and time.

"Alex!!"

Alex jumped out of his skin. Who the hell was that calling him? Annoyed, he walked over to the window and stuck his head out. Immediately, another brick hit him in the face.

"Owwwww!!!" Alex yelled in agony. He looked down, to see Carter standing there, a smirk spread across his smarmy face. Carter scratched the back of his neck and laughed, pretending to be nervous.

"God damn it! I missed!"

"What do you want now Carter?" Alex replied pissily. (Yeah!!!! My word!)

"I hope you don't think I'm rude or anything but-," Carter paused for dramatic effect. "-Can I have my brick back?"

"If that isn't the definition of cheekiness I don't know what is," Alex mused to himself. He walked back over to the shelf and picked up the latest installment to his collection. Then he threw it out of the window, without looking.

"Eh.." Alex sighed, past caring. "It probably missed."

He shut the window so no more bricks could try and get through and moved over to the door. 

Suddenly, his alarm clock burst into life.

"9:25pm," the clock chanted. Alex glanced at his watch. It was only six fifteen. He looked at the liquid crystal display. The time was 1:80.

"Damn! I gotta get that fixed!"

Alex slammed the front door behind him and stepped over Carter's unconscious body. He had decided to pay a little visit on Carter Hort- Oh yeah, right, he's unconscious. Hang on, rewind..... dniwer ,no gnaH .suoicsnocnu s'eh ,thgir ,haey hO -troH retraC no tisiv elttil a yap ot dediced dah eH.

Right. He had decided to pay a little visit on er............Tod...Yeah, that'll do.

"Tod!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Alex screamed at the top of his voice outside the front upstairs window. "Tod!!!!"

A strange woman opened the window. "Sorry, you got the wrong house. The Waggner's live in New York, not Brazil."

"Oh, yeah, right, how silly of me," Alex replied, wishing he hadn't spent his life savings on the flight to South America. So off, he went, back to New York.

A few weeks later, he arrived at Tod's house. He cleared his throat, and prepared to shriek.......but the window opened before he had a chance.

"Tod?!" Alex called hopefully.

"No, it's spiderman," Tod replied sarcastically, leaning out of the window. "Ermdaranmeyelldotellfa!" Alex yelled.

"Woah, Alex, slow down!"

"Erm da ran me yell dot ellfa."

"Think before you say each word."

"You broke a promise to your child!" Alex accused angrily.

"Oh, you mean little Jimmy?" Tod asked.

"No, I meant me," Alex said seriously.

"But you're not my-."

"Say it!! Say you love me Daddy, and let the cider House rule!!!!"

"What are you talking about?"

Alex started dancing around in circles at that point on Tod's front lawn. He started talking to himself in a french accent.

"Nicole! Papa!"

"Alex? You okay?" Tod persisted unsurely. "Shhhhh, you know my Dad'll freak if he finds out you're talking to me!"

"Nicole!!!! Papa!! Buy me a Renault Clio!!"

"Alex!!!!!!! Shut up!!" Tod shrieked at the top of his voice. Alex stopped suddenly. He reached into his pocket and put on a pair of glasses.

"Now can you promise me that no-one else is going to die?" He said. Tod opened his mouth, but he soon realised Alex wasn't talking to him. Alex removed the glasses and spoke normally again.

"No, as long as I'm in here it's out of my control I'm sorry."

He burst into hysterical fits of laughter then. 

"Listen, Alex, I think I'm going to call the mental hospital......"

"Oh, don't do that, you're not crazy."

Tod sighed and rolled his eyes. He was getting close to closing the window and forgotting about his friend.

"Listen freak!" Tod cried out suddenly losing it. Alex shut up and stared itently up at him. "What is up with you? You're totally round the twist."

"Oh," Alex replied. "Don't get me started on _that _programme."

Tod shook his head and slammed the window. A few seconds later, he appeared in the doorway. He walked over to Alex.

"Look, dude, I know it's been difficult for you, what with being labelled a freak and all, but-."

"But what?"

"But you don't have to-."

"Look Tod," Alex said, sounding almost serious for once. "No friends and no fun makes Alex go-."

"Crazy?"

"Don't mind if I do!" Alex cried chasing Tod. Tod pegged it down the street, with Alex running full pelt after him. Tod saw a bin and threw it behind him in a pathetic attempt to trip his friend over. He jumped over a wall as quickly as he could, snagging his sweater in the process. Suddenly, he spied a skateboard. He leapt on it and skated off at top speed. 

Meanwhile, Alex was on roller skates, and gaining on Tod, his arms outstretched liked some kind of maniac. Tod looked back, feeling panicky. He saw a little boy playing with his figures on the floor. Quick as a flash, Tod picked up the boy and threw him in Alex's way. Alex rode over the boy and lost control of the roller skates. Gradually, his legs went wider and wider apart until he was doing the splits. Then, he noticed he was heading straight for a lamp-post. With a smack, he landed one leg either side of it. Painful.

In the distance, Tod saw a ramp and feeling like being arrogant, he did a rocket air off the ramp and finished it with a 540 madonna. (Gay skateboarding moves) Unfortunately, he had never skateboarded before in his life and the only skateboarding experience he had was 'Tony Hawks Pro Skater,' a stupid skateboarding game, so, it was a pretty good bet that something was going to go wrong.

And low and behold, it did. 

In his vain attempt to look like a cool dude instead of a lecherous geek donning a faded scratty stripy sweater, he slipped on the ramp and fell. He flew up into the air and grabbed a nearby tree branch for safety. But the skateboard, which hadn't been blessed with arms by the good lord, fell to it's untimely death. It snapped violently in half on the pavement. Tod wiped his brow with one hand.

"Glad that wasn't me!" he remarked unwisely. Without warning, the branch began to shake.

Alex stood beneath the tree laughing insanely. 

"You can't stay up there forever!" he gloated. "Come down, so I can get you back for what you just did!"

"Never!" Tod shouted trying to sound heroic. 

"Because of you I'll probably never be able to have children!" Alex yelled back, although secretly he was pleased. Who wanted to have an exact replica of him running around? Even he could see himself for what he really was. At that moment he caught sight of his reflection in a piece of tin-foil on the floor.

"Hi there handsome," he said to his reflection.

Tod hung on for dear life, wishing the branch wouldn't break and everything would be okay. But he should have known he wasn't that lucky.

It was about to get a lot, LOT worse. Suddenly, the sweater disintergrated and fell in pieces to the ground below. Alex laughed.

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Tod cried, letting go of the branch. He fell to the ground and landed on top of Alex.

"Ugh!!!!" Alex shrieked. "Get off me you poof!"

"I'm not a poof!" Tod yelled. It really wasn't his lucky day though was it? Because a card fell out of his pocket at that minute. Alex snatched it up.

"What's this?"

"Nothing, nothing," Tod replied trying to get it back. He wasn't quick enough.

"Wow, this time you really dropped your gay card," Alex smirked.

"So?" Tod flicked his hair out of his eyes. 


	2. Chapter Two

Alex was about to say something else when they heard a crying sound. Startled, they spun round to see Carter's little brother in tears.

"What the hell are you snivelling at?" Alex scoffed, demonstarting his compassion.

"Yeah, you sodding baby, what the hell's wrong with you now?" Tod asked. Wow, they'd make really good parents.

"You broke my skateboard!" Carter's brother whinged. (I'd think of a name for the little bugger but I can't be arsed)

"So what? Accidents happen," Tod replied insolently.

"If you don't get me a new one," The little whinging bastard threatened. "I'll, I'll, I'll get my big brother on you and he'll kick your ass."

"Probably," Alex admitted. "But I don't see your brother around here, so I'm just gonna take the risk."

"You're bullies!" the little sod whined.

"D'uh?" Tod answered. "You noticed."

Suddenly, the boy threw back his head and yelled. "CARTER! CARTER! SOME BOYS ARE BEATING ME UP! THEY ARE THROWING SLEDGE HAMMERS AT MY FACE AND FIRING GUNS AT MY LEGS!!!!!!!!!..............OH YEAH, AND THEY ALSO BROKE MY SKATEBOARD AND WON'T BUY ME A NEW ONE!"

There was a few seconds of silence, in which Alex and Tod thought they might have got away with it. But I wouldn't be making this scenario up if that happened would I?

There was the sound of footsteps, and a voice which sounded suspiciously like the class dickhead, (that is not my description actually. It says that in the official script) approaching.

"Right then! Nobody messes with me, or my brother. If you got something to say you can tell it to me, you got that?!"

Carter appeared from round the back of the house. Alex and Tod gulped. Carter's face lit up when he recognised them.

"Oh, it's the freak! And his gay little friend!"

"Er......." Alex struggled to come up with a stupid excuse. He put on an over-the-top french accent. "Bonjour, je mappelle Monsieur........er......Van-Gough. Pleasez vous tell moi where ze clocktower iz?"

"Cut the crap Freak," Carter replied, rolling up his sleeves. "You knocked me out with that brick. I can't let you get away with that!" He paused for a second, as he noticed his brother in tears. "Oh yeah.....and there's that little matter of the skateboard aswell."

Alex and Tod stood frozen to the spot. They had to come up with something. Fast. Tod's eyes slid in the direction of a nearby hosepipe. He smirked as a plan entered his mind.

"Psssssst! Alex," Tod whsipered to his friend. "See that hosepipe over there?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"What are you whispering about you bent bastard!?" Carter yelled in annoyance, but Alex and Tod chose to ignore him.

"When I say, run, okay?"

There was a few seconds of silence as Tod scanned the area. Then......

"RUNNNNNNN!!!!!!"

Alex and Tod ran over to the hosepipe as Carter gave chase. Quick as a flash, Tod snatched up the hosepipe and with the help of Alex switched it to full-blast. Immediately a jet of water blasted out of the hosepipe and straight into Carter, completely soaking him.

"You dickheads!!!" Carter shrieked. "This shirt cost me $99.99!"

Alex and Tod knew they had to escape now. They ran as fast as they could down the street.

Carter didn't know what to do for a moment. He stood absolutely dripping wet on the lawn, feeling himself getting more and more angry. Then he made a decision and ran after them. He wasn't going to let two dorks get away with that. 

Tod glanced behind him as they neared a garden wall. He could see Carter gaining on them. 

"Quick!!" Tod yelled diving at the wall. He leapt up and grabbed the top of it. Alex scaled it much quicker, and disappeared over the over side.

"Help Alex!" Tod cried, but it was too late. Carter grabbed him and pulled him to the ground.

"Right," Carter announced, seething with rage.

"Ugh, you're all wet!" Tod replied stupidly.

"You bet I am."

Carter had gripped Tod by the arm so he couldn't get away. Suddenly, Alex jumped up from the other side of the wall and dragged Tod over it before Carter had a chance to react.

"Yeah!" Tod yelled slapping him a high five.

"Damn!!" Carter exclaimed from the other side. His brother suddenly appeared next to him.

"So, are they gonna get me a new skateboard or what?"

Carter didn't answer.

"Why are you covered in water?"

"Oh shut up!" Carter yelled knocking his brother to the ground with one hand. Then to himself he added, "Those jerks are gonna pay this time."

It was the next day. Alex and Tod walked to school together, both nervous about what stunts Carter might try to pull on them, but on the other hand, quite looking forward to bragging to their mates. After all, it's not everyday you get to say you soaked Carter Horton with a hosepipe.

Billy was standing by the school gates, fiddling with his baseball cap.

"Yo dudes, wot's up?" he said trying to be cool.

"Oh nothing, nothing," Alex replied smugly.

They walked into school together. Alex and Tod looked around the corridors nervously. They were hoping they wouldn't have to run into Carter by mistake, or else all hell would break lose.

They thought they had got away with it. But basically, we all know they hadn't because the chasing and the people getting hurt is the best part of this pathetic moronic excuse for a story.

As they entered the classroom, they slowly realised it was French. And Carter was in their French class. Mr. Murnau the teacher wasn't there at the moment, because he was dead, so typically, the class were running amok. Paper aeroplanes were flying around the room, with some of the sicker members of the class setting fire to them with their lighters beforehand. Very nice. Not that there was much less of the class anyway. They used to be three separate french classes, now they had been moved into one. The new french teacher was called Monsieur Glasion. He had apparantly been working in a school in England, but he was actually French, so it seemed he was going to be quite an annoying teacher. 

Alex couldn't be arsed to sit in his desk, so he sat on it instead. Tod couldn't even be bothered to do that. He just sat in mid-air. The class were noisy and hyperactive. I can't really tell you much about the class cos all the other members are dead, so it would mean I would have to make up a few crap names and that's just too much like hard work. However, I can tell you a bit about the survivors. 

Billy was listening to some stupid band on his personal stereo, singing along with in totally out of tune, and Carter and Terry were making out on the teachers desk.

Obviously, the only person not being immature and stupid was Clear. She just sat at the back staring into space. Oh yeah....and occasionally glancing across at Alex wondering how to turn him into her latest art project.

Suddenly, from nowhere, a voice interrupted their fun.

"Ch, ch, ch, ch, ch!" The voice spoke. It was Monsieur Glasion. He entered the room with a pile of books in one arm. He stood over Carter and Terry, demonstrating his new-found authority (whatever that means) and cleared his throat. Smirking arrogantly, Carter took Terry's hand and they sloped off into their desks.

"Bonjour la classe," Monsieur Glasion greeted them. Nobody answered of course, because for one thing, Monsieur Glasion is mind-numbingly boring, and for another, I am stereotyping American Teenagers and trying to make out that they never pay attention in class and the only way to stop them messing around is to, a) shout very loudly or b)do something equally as ridiculous.

Monsieur Glasion opted for 'b'. He fired a pistol into the air. The bullet fired up into the classroom above and probably killed what was left of the English class. Anyway, that shut the class up. Tod glanced across at Carter, who looked back with one of the evilest grins Tod had ever seen.

Tod gulped and shrunk so far down in his desk that the frictional force became less than the gravitational force. In other words, he slipped off his chair and landed on the floor, underneath his desk, with a clatter.

"Monsieur Waggner? Qu'est que c'est?" Monsieur Glasion asked impatiently.

"Je suis......sorry," Tod replied pathetically, sliding on his back out from under the chair.

"Right......." Monsieur Glasion continued in English, not entirely sure what the hell was wrong with this class. "Shall we begin with some 'tres facile' work?"

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Carter groaned as loud as he could.

"Is there a problem Monsieur Horton?"

"No, Monsieur Glasion," Carter replied, doing a perfect imitation of the teacher's voice. "It's just that, when you say 'tres facile' you actually mean that it's 'tres facile' for you, and you only. The rest of us don't have a clue what the hell you're talking about. I mean, how would you like it if I gave you some work in Japenese and said 'do this, it's easy?' Then you wouldn't like it would you, I mean, not that I'm Japenese or anything but it's just not on when-."

__

Ten Hours Later

"You can't just go around demanding for people to do work, when they don't even speak French for a first language, I mean, come on, gimme a frickin break for gods sake's......."

__

5 hours after that..

"........It's time you realised that people like you can't just expect everything to fall into place and be all apples and pears and-." Carter stopped. He looked around the room. It was empty. The room was in darkness. Carter glanced at his watch. It was 3 am. "Hmm," he said to himself. "School just gets longer every day. I must talk to the PTA about that."

He got out of his seat and walked over to Monsieur Glasion's desk. He picked up a piece of paper and a pencil, and proceeded to write a letter of complaint, which went something like this:

Dear Monsieur Git-Face,

I am writing to say how utterly pissed off I am with the education system. Quite Frankly, it sucks. School now finishes over twelve hours later than what it used to finish at. I am going to play truant until something is done about it, or if that fails, I may write a sitcom about my teddies.

From your fantastic straight 'A' Student,

Carter Horton.


	3. Chapter Three

He smirked and put the letter on the desk for the teacher to read. Then, he walked out of the classroom.

The street was dark of course, and it reminded him of this film he had seen once, Tarzan. He didn't know why it reminded him of Tarzan, he just happened to be thinking what an ace film it was at the time. 

Suddenly, he realised where he was.

"Ah-ha!" Carter said aloud, getting a stupid idea. "Terry's house is on this street. I think I'll pay her a little visit."

He had forgotten that people generally go to bed at night. Soon, he arrived at her house. He was about to press the doorbell really loudly, when it suddenly dawned on him.

"Oh damn, everyone's in bed!" He said angrily. Then he shrugged. It was no problem. He picked up a rock off Terry's parents rockery and threw it at the window. With a crash, the window shattered.

"That outta do it," Carter told himself proudly. And sure enough, it did.

"What the hell?" A voice cursed angrily. 

"Terry?" Carter called up anxiously. A face appeared in the window. It was Terry's thirteen year old sister. 

"No, that's the next window," The girl replied sleepily, rubbing her eyes. Then she disappeared back inside. 

Carter picked up another rock and walked around to the next window. He was just about to throw it when the window opened.

"Who is it?" A voice asked.

"It's me."

"Carter?" Terry's face leaned out of the window.

"Yeah."

"What the hell do you want?"

"Can I come in?"

"Why?"

"D'uh? I thought you might let me sleep in your bed or something."

"Gimme a break Carter. It's 3:30 in the morning."

"But I'm cold and lonely and-."

"Cold? What the hell are you talking about? It's the middle of summer!"

"Figure of speech," Carter replied. He folded his arms. "So, can I come up and see you or what?"

Terry sighed, sensing Carter wasn't about to give up. "I suppose so...."

"Well, how the hell can I get in?"

"You should have thought about that before you got here." Terry paused. "Hang on a second."

A few seconds later, she opened the front door. 

"Thanks Terry."

"Shhhhhh, you'll have to very quiet," Terry warned him. "My parents'll go crazy."

"So?"

Carter followed her inside. Instinctively, he walked into the kitchen and thinking he owned the place, pulled open the fridge door.

"Where's the sweets?"

"Carter, we don't have sweets."

"What about the chicken then? The ham? Turkey?"

Terry slammed the fridge door shut then. 

"There's nothing, okay?" She turned to face him. "Now, are we gonna make out, or what?"

"I guess so," Carter replied, disappointed that he couldn't stuff his face......Oh, wait, Alex is meant to be the greedy one.....Oh well, who cares?

Alex couldn't sleep. He was sitting up in his bed, the covers tucked around him, scared to death. He daren't turn out the light. Instead, he just stared. He stared at the plastic monkeys hanging from the ceiling. He couldn't take his eyes off them. If he did......Oh, it was too horrible to think about. They would kill him. Worse even. They might tie him up and torture him to death. Either way, he knew he had to keep watch. As long as the light was on, he was safe. They couldn't come to life in the light. Only the dark.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, the bulb exploded and the room was plunged into Darkness.

"Ahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!" Alex screamed at the top of his voice, shoving his head under the covers. They were after him now. He knew it. Now it was dark, they were free, to do whatever they wanted with him. 

No, there was nothing to save him now. It was too late. He could feel them clambering all over his covers, getting closer and closer to his face.

"Stay away from me!!!" Alex cried out, petrified. "You can't get me! Get the hell off me!"

"Alex?" a confused voice asked.

"Piss off!" Alex shrieked from under the covers. "Just fucking piss off, you bastardised shit heads!"

"Alex!!!!" The voice repeated angrily. The covers were ripped off him violently. Imagine the idiot Alex felt when he realised it was his parents. 

"How dare you speak to us like that! You're grounded my boy!" Ken Browning announced.

"But, I thought you were the-."

"Thought we were the 'what'?" Barbara Browning asked. Suddenly, it dawned on Alex how stupid it sounded. Plastic Monkeys crawling up his covers to kill him? As if.

"Nothing. I'm sorry mother."

"You bet you are. What was all the screaming?" Ken questioned him.

"My light, it er......It exploded."

"I'm not bloody surprised, you sitting here all night with it on. You really should grow up Alex. They aren't gonna come alive and start chasing you."

"W-what?" Alex asked, suddenly realising they knew what he was afraid of.

"I know what you're scared of son. And the monkeys are Plastic. They can't do anything to you, so how about you get some rest, eh?"

"All right Dad."

Alex felt like a really stupid dickhead by the time his parents left the room. He lay down in bed and tried to relax, but every now and again, he caught sight of the monkey's swinging in the breeze, grinning evilly at him......He shook his head and turned over in his bed. He really had to get a grip.

Meanwhile, thing's were getting a bit dodgy at the Chaney house.....I don't think I need to write about it really, do you? Well, I know you do, but you can't always have what you want. Believe me, I know, because I never get what I wan- Oh, well, I suppose I do get pretty much everything I ask for, point taken. But what about the things that money can't buy, or your parents can't make happen? What about other stuff that some people like me can never have? Like a boyfriend. Or fame. Or wealth. Or happiness, well, I am happy. I'm a very happy person actually. Always laughing. But the other things I know I'll never have. So while I should actually be describing what Carter and Terry are doing in Terry's bedroom at 4am in the morning, which I won't, I'll talk about my angst and annoyance instead, and if that gets a bit too boring, you can just try to imagine what I should actually be writing about, if you're that sad.

I want to be famous. Why the hell can't I be famous??? Oh well, I'm bored now. Let's go back to the story.

"Carter, keep your voice down you idiot!" Terry hissed. 

"But I just love...........this CD!" Carter cried leaping over to an album on Terry's stereo. "Can I just play one song? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease!"

"No, you can't. Now get back over here and kiss me."

"But I want to play this song!"

"Right, well get out then," Terry threatened. "Get out of my room, and out of my house."

"Ohhhhhhhhh, Terry!"

"Carter, I told you," Terry began, but then she saw that irresistable look on his face. 

"Please Terry, Nine Inch Nails is my favourite band in the world!" Carter begged, falling to his knees on the carpet. Terry walked over and kneeled beside him.

"Okay then, just one song," she agreed, giving in. "But you'll have to keep it really quiet, you understand?"

"Sure baby, whatever," Carter replied, putting the CD in. 'Into The Void' stared playing, which for gay idiots who don't read the credits, is the song playing in Carter's car at the coffee shop bit. Terry smiled, and rested her head on his shoulder.

__

Crappy little note by the writer begins here: Can I just ask, even though I made it all up and technically I should know the answer, but how the hell could Terry cheat on Carter with Tod? Tod, of all people. What possessed me to write that? Carter's just sooooooooooooooooooooooooo cute. From this moment onwards, nothing like that will ever happen again. After all, we know that Carter really loves Terry in FD anyway, cos he was going to kill himself to be with her. Okay, yeah, that would have been quite sweet, but there were actually three other people in the car at the same time, so I don't think you can actually apply that to the same principal can you?

She glanced at the clock on her wall. It said 4:15am. Man, was she gonna be tired the next morning, but if she was completely honest, she could skive off school couldn't she? Exactly. She leaned against Carter and he put his arm around her.

"No," Alex said in his sleep as he tossed and turned in his bed. "No, stay away from me! Don't hurt me!"

He grabbed hold of his pillow, still asleep. "What do you want from me? My magazines? Take them, take them all, just leave me alone.....Please! Just let me be! W-what the? What the hell are you doing? I thought we had an agreement....No, not the face, please, not the face! Anything but my beautiful face! Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Alex sat bolt upright in his bed, his hands on his face. He breathed a huge sigh of relief. It had all been another silly dream. On edge, he glanced around his room. The breeze blew in from the window, making the newspapers on his desk rustle. He looked to the ceiling. There were the monkeys, spinning eerily in the wind, but nethertheless, they weren't alive. They were plastic. PLASTIC. Plastic didn't come to life did it? It just wasn't possible. He turned over and looked at his alarm clock.

"Ahhh, 1:80am," he sighed, not realising the ridiculousness of it. It suddenly occurred to him that this time didn't exist. He did a double take and looked again. "1:80am? What the bloody hell?" He bashed his fist on the top of the clock, but somehow managed to turn the radio on.

"......And all 287 passengers are feared dead," a woman reporter announced. Slightly spooked, Alex turned off the radio and reached behind his bedside table. He ripped the alarm clock's plug out of its socket. Unbeknown to him, the numbers stayed on the digital display for a second, before slowly fading away.

"First thing tomorrow morning," Alex mused to himself as he lay back on his pillow. "I've really gotta get that clock fixed."

The alarm went off loudly at 7:30am the next morning. Tired and irritated, Terry leaned over and bashed the top of it to shut it up.

"Stupid god forsaken alarm clock," she said angrily to herself. "Why do you have to go off and wake me up?"

"Because," A voice said from on the floor. "You set it to go off you idiot."

"Shut up," Terry replied in no mood to be argued with. She didn't know how the hell Carter could be so cheery in the mornings. She just felt like death warmed up. She pulled back the covers and swung her legs over the side.

"You better hurry up and get out of my house too," she announced calmly.

"If my Dad finds you in here-."

"I know, I know, he'll call you a slut and throw me out. Don't worry about it." Carter sat up, rubbing his back. "You know, the floor isn't exactly the most comfortable place to spend the night."

"You were squashing me," Terry answered making excuses. "And besides, you took all the cover."

"So you threw me onto the floor?" Carter replied putting a whole new perspective on the thing.

"You should have gone back to your own house," She said as she got to her feet and walked over to the door. "I don't know why you even had to come here."

"Well that's one of the stupidest questions I ever heard," Carter replied sarcastically. "Teenage boy goes to his girlfriends house at three thirty in the morning. Why? To do his French homework? Gimme a frickin break."

__

Ahh, the joys of not giving people the one sentence they want to hear, to explain the situation without actually explaining it. It's a talent I'm not willing to share..........

"You've got a one track mind Carter," Terry said sleepily. "I'm going to get dressed. You can wait for me outside the house."

"Fine."

Carter got to his feet, his back aching from being made to sleep on the floor. He looked at the door. Then he looked at the window. Then the door again. Then the window.

"Door, window, door, window, door, window," Carter mused to himself. Eventually he made a decision. "Window."

He took a running jump and dived out of the window, momentarily forgetting that he couldn't fly. He realised it a second too late.

"Oh man!" he cried as he was fired into the grass like a dart. 

He hit the floor with a thud, his head throbbing.

"Bullseye!" A voice cried out from the path infront of him. Dazed, Carter looked up, to see Billy laughing his geeky little head off.

"You shut up," Carter warned, rubbing his head. "Or I'll twat the shit out of you."

"Usually, I'd be scared," Billy scoffed. "But not anymore, not since I used, Paul McKenna's self help hypnosis tapes on, 'How To Stop Being A Wimp And Get On With Your Life You Sad, Sad Bastard.'"

"Great."

"Yeah, I know. I'm as hard as Nine Inch Nails now You dick." Billy really thought he was ace.

"Sure you are," Carter replied, getting to his feet. He straightened out his jacket and walked over to Billy. "Well, how about if I do, this?"

He pushed Billy with one finger. Billy fell to the ground.

Embarassed, he jumped back onto his feet.

"That was a fluke," he protested. "It has to be."

"No, no, Billy," Carter answered smugly. "You're still little mister 'Can't hold my own luggage without falling over' aren't you?"

"That was YOUR fault!"

"Oh, It's always _my _fault isn't it?"

"Er......Yes!"

"Please don't try to blame me for your clumsiness Billy," Carter replied shaking his head.

"But you just-."

"No, no, I'm afraid I haven't got time for this at all Sir Fall-A-Lot."

"Why the hell have you just fallen out of Terry's window anyway?" Billy questioned, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

"Well, gee, I'm not sure," Carter answered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Perhaps its because I missed the door."

"Good, cos that's what it looked like to me too," Billy remarked smarmily. "It's an easy mistake to make, to miss a door......You been on the JD again?"

Carter turned his head away, dusting down his jacket.

"A little, yeah. Why? What's it to you anyway?"

"No reason."

Billy put his hands in his pockets. He felt kinda weird, standing here having a conversation with Carter. After all, Carter always picked on him, even when he'd done nothing wrong. But those self help tapes had really done him good. He thought back to a time where Carter had thrown him in the lake in the local park. He didn't see what he'd done wrong, but according to Carter, 'His baseball cap had been pissing him off all day'. Sometimes he was just a complete bastard, like the time he beat him up for his lunch money. Ah, memories.

"Billy? You listening to me?" Carter's voice broke into his thoughts.

"No." The blunt reply slipped out of his mouth without thinking. Man, those tapes really worked.

"Oh, well, okay then."

Billy stared in disbelief. 

"So, you aren't gonna punch me for saying that?"

"Saying what?"

"Nothing...." Billy paused. He couldn't think of a word to say. Then it happened. His mouth ran away with him again. He couldn't stop it. "So, anyway.....You get laid last night?" He asked in a calm, matter of fact way. Immediately, his eyes opened wide in shock. He clamped a hand to his mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry, didn't mean to-."

"Yeah. I did." Carter answered without hesitation. "And it was pretty damn good aswell actuallly."

"Yeah, well I'm sorry for saying it." Billy apolgised. "I don't know what came over me Carter."


	4. Chapter Four

Carter just brushed it aside. "I suppose it's only natural for virgins such as yourself to be curious about other people's sex lives, right Billy?"

Billy didn't know what to say for a minute. Then his alter ego took over once more.

"Wrong. I just feel really sorry for Terry. I mean, she's a bitch and all, but-."

But Carter just laughed. "Bitch? Oh yeah, she's a real bitch sometimes. The bitch from hell. Yeah, Terry's a real, real, super bitch."

"That's nice. Real nice," Terry interrupted from behind him. "Bye Carter."

And with that, she stormed off down the street, with her school books in hand.

"Terry, wait!" Carter cried, chasing after her. He finally managed to catch up with his girlfriend. "Terry, I didn't mean-."

"Oh shut up Carter. You're so superficial. One minute you're telling me how much you love me, the next you're telling everyone I'm the bitch from hell. I don't want to speak to you." Terry tried to walk ahead, but Carter grabbed hold of her arm to stop her.

"Get off me Carter, I don't want to have anything to do with you today," Terry warned, trying to shake her arm free.

"No Terry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, honest."

"You'll never be able to make this up to me Carter. I've put up with your insults long enough."

"You wanna bet? I can make this one up to you easy," Carter replied confidently. He reached into his pocket. "I got you a little present."

Terry smiled and took the box from Carter.

"Oh, wow," She said, not knowing what to say. "A John Denver CD."

"Limited Rocky Mountain High edition," Carter added proudly. He held out his arms. "So, how about a hug?"

Terry thought for a moment. John Denver? What kind of a gift is that? I hate John Denver. Then again, it's the thought that counts, isn't it?

She looked at Carter, who was know beginning to feel awkward standing there with his arms outstretched. 

Oh look at him now, she thought again. He's getting tired of waiting for me to do something. I love it when he does that. I love being in control, heh heh heh heh

"Fine," Carter announced, spinning on his cool little trainer heels (Joke) and starting to make his way off down the street.

You better go after him, Terry's brain told her. You love him don't you?

"Do I?" Terry said aloud to her brain.

Sure you do. You had sex with him didn't you?

"Well, yeah. but-."

But What Terry? Go over there and snog him. If you don't, I'll make you forget all the answers in history class. You hate that don't you? Or I'll sneak it up on you, one day, when there's a big exam, the _most _important exam of the whole ye-

"Okay, okay, I'll do it."

Terry took a deep breath and tried to forgive him. Then she caught up with him and grabbed hold of him.

"Terry?" He asked hopefully.

She hesitated for a second.

For Christs sake woman kiss him!

So she did. Carter wrapped his arms tightly around her. Then, he sprung out of his loving boyfriend mode and became the type of guy who would come up to you in a bar and say, "Get your coat, you've pulled." 

"What do you say, we miss School, and have a little study break of our own?" He whispered.

"What were you thinking of?" Terry replied, suddenly morphing into the school slut.

Oh, the joys of split personality disorder eh?

Carter didn't reply to that question. Instead, he just kissed her again, his hands all over her.

"Oh, Mr, Horton, Miss Chaney, just in time for school," Mr. Doggett, the school principal interrupted them.

"Yeah, I guess we are," Carter replied with a hint of insolence in his tone.

"Well, get going then," Mr. Doggett urged, eyeing them suspiciously. "The back row of the cinemas the place for that type of thing, not here."

"Oh ha ha," Carter commented sarcastically, slipping his arm around Terry's waist. "Come along Terry. We wouldn't want to be late now would we?"

Alex sat at the breakfast table, bleary eyed and absolutely shattered. Barbara Browning had her back to him, busily getting her own cereal. Alex stared down at his bowl of cornflakes. He held the baseball bat tightly under the table.

"Monkey......Monkeys everywhere......Monkeys......Monkey's can't get me......Bring it on Monkeys.......Must stay awake......Must keep watch...For Monkeys......"

"Alex, sweetie? You feelin okay?" Mrs. Browning asked, still with her back to him.

"......Must protect myself from.......Monkeys....." Alex muttered sleepily.

"You sound tired honey-bun. Why do you sound tired?"

"Monkeys......Must stay awake......Otherwise....Monkeys....."

"Baby doll? You feeling okay sugar-lump?"

"Monkeys.......Monkeys.......Monkeys......" Alex chanted, not paying attention to a word his Mum was saying. Absolutely knacked from staying awake all night, Alex's head dropped forward straight into his cereal.

Barbara Browning turned around. Her jaw dropped open.

"Oh darling, how many times have I told you to bring the dish up your mouth, not the other way around?"

Alex only snored in reply.

"Oh, you can't go to sleep now sugar. What about school? You want to get straight A's don't you?"

At that second Ken Browning came down the stairs, singing in a wide awake cheery voice.

"Pictures in my head of the Final Destination," he sang happily, clicking his fingers. "Oh, morning Barb, Alex....." Then he noticed his son asleep in his cereal, and did a double take. "Alex? Get your head of your dish you silly, silly boy!"

"Shhhhhhh, don't wake him," his Mum replied, putting a finger to her lips. "Let's get the video camera out first."

"Good idea!"

"Ahh," Tod sighed, stretching and yawning. "What a glorious, glorious, glorious.....Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" He suddenly noticed it was midday. "I'm late for school!" Then he stopped. "Late for school. Late for school....Is this the best day of my life?"

He thought back to some of his favourite memories. Eating a chocolate bar.......Having a hair cut........Buying his sweater.......Finding a penny on the carpet....

"Looks like we have a new champion."

He smirked and got back into bed. 

"Now to pretend I've got a sore tummy.........Heh heh heh........"

At that moment, someone knocked on the door.

"Toddy sweetie? Can I come in? You're awfully, awfully late for school."

"I know Mom," Tod replied, trying not to grin. "But I don't feel........very well."

"Awww, honey. Really? Then why bother going to school? What's the point right? You can go to school on the other side, can't you?"

__

By the way, that was meant to be based on part of the script. Figure it out for yourself which bit I mean.

"Eh?" Tod asked, sitting up suddenly. "What do you mean, 'The Other side?'"

"Nothing, nothing," Linda Waggner entered the room. "Oh, you do look sick. How about the day off?"

"Now there's an offer I can't refuse," Tod answered. He didn't need to put on a croaky voice cos he already had one.

Ms. Lewton walked to the front of the class.

"Well, good morning class," she said, trying to sound cheery. "Today, is a very special day, because I have managed to get the Nine Inch Nails into our lesson to perform some songs......."

She looked out at the rows of empty desks. "Sorry guys," she said to a band who were standing next to her. "I knew it would never work."

"Oh, that's too bad, cos like, this was the only day we could come in dude, so, like, those kids are gonna be like, totally nuked." The lead singer replied.

"I know, I know, but I suppose now they'll learn that playing truant is not the way to live."

"Like, I dunno dude. I always skived off totally. And now look at me man. I'm like, so cool."

"Yes....."

The band picked up their instruments and walked out of the door, down the corridor.

Carter had Terry up against the lockers. They were completely engrossed in each other, making out.

"Woah, dude, take a look at that," the lead singer of Nine Inch Nails announced. "Get in there dude."

Carter broke away from Terry and turned around, to see the band cheering them on.

"All right!"

"Sweet!"

"Oh, don't stop now dude."

"Nine inch nails?!" Carter exclaimed, releasing Terry from his grasp. "Wow! I love your music!"

Two of the band members slapped each other a high five. 

"Woah dude, a fan!"

The lead singer looked at Carter. "We salute you, dude." He walked over to him. "So, what's your name?"

"Carter."

"And what's the name of your little hottie?" The lead singer asked, eyeing Terry up and down.

Terry, who didn't look too pleased, replied, "My name is Terry, actually. Why?"

"Ooooooh, bring it on," the lead singer joked. "What's up darlin'? Not getting enough of the good stuff?" Then he looked at Carter, who was now glaring. "Oh, no offence to you or anything Carl."

"It's Carter."

"Sorry Carl."

"No, my name is Carter."

"Carl? Carter? What's the difference?"

"Well actually-."

"And Terry, did you say?" The lead singer asked again, taking Terry's arm. He kissed her hand. "What a beautiful name, for a beautiful lady."

Terry giggled, flattered. Carter folded his arms, feeling hostile.

"Right, well, what the hell are you doing here?"

"We came for a concert," Tyler, the guitarist replied _(Look, this is my story and I don't care whether the guitarist is really called Tyler or not. This is my version of Nine Inch Nails and in my version, there's someone called Tyler because I copied the name off a programme called 'My Hero.' So to all the NIN fans, I'm sorry if I'm wrong but I don't know that much about them and If I knew what the guitarist was called I would call him by the proper name. You could however, at least give me some credit for knowing that one of them is called Trent Reznor.)_

"Except, none of your class showed up."

"Hey I got an idea," the lead singer, who I have now decided is called Trent, said. "We need one of you to come and sing for us-."

"Oooh, oooh, me!" Carter yelled, jumping up and down.

"I think we'll take Terry," Trent replied. Terry giggled again, in a flirtacious kind of way, sending Carter's jealousy level through the roof. 

"No, actually," Carter said suddenly, trying his best to sound soz-hard. _Oh, come on, this is the Nine Inch Nails we're talking about, they're not gonna be scared of a guy who wets his pants in a crisis are they? Exactly._

"Carter!" Terry warned. She smiled smugly. "If they want me to go and sing for them, so be it."

"Well, I wouldn't mind but....but you sound like a cat being strangled!" Carter insulted. Terry looked shocked. She put her hand to her heart.

"Me? Sound like a cat being strangled? You've gotta be kidding me."

"I kid you not," Carter announced, producing a cassette from behind his back. "Karaoke Festival, summer of 1999."

"You give me that!" Terry yelled, snatching it out of his hands. She jumped on it until it was completely mangled. Then she composed herself. "Right, Trent, Tyler, the other's who haven't got names cos the author couldn't be bothered...Are we all set?"

"Noooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!" Carter yelled, jumping at Tyler. He slipped on the corridor floor and accidentally pulled Tyler's pants down.

"Assault!" Tyler yelled. "Assault!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Oh give it a rest," Carter replied impatiently.

There was a knock at the door while Tod was watching the Teletubbies. 

"Oh man," Tod moaned, dragging himself over to the door. "Now I'll never know how many pieces of Tubby Toast Laa-Laa got."

He hoped it wasn't the truant officer. Then he was really in trouble. He looked through the window. It was only a man in a suit, thank God. He opened the door.

"Oh hey there," The man greeted in a friendly voice. "Does a Tod Waggner live here?"

"Er....Yes," Tod answered uncertainly. "Why, what's he done?"

"Done? Oh, nothing, just wondering whether he was here."

Suddenly, Tod's mind was racing. He's a truant officer. He's onto me. Ahhhh! He cleared his throat. "T-Tod, Waggner, did you say?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I thought you meant.....Ted Waggner. There's no-one by the name Tod who lives here."

"Tod? Who's this man?" Linda Waggner interrupted, appearing over his shoulder. Tod slapped a hand to his forehead in despair.

"Ah, Mrs. Waggner," The man continued. "I'm hoping you can clear this up for me. Is this, your son, Tod?"

Linda suddenly caught on with the idea. 

"Tod? No, this isn't Tod, I just call him that sometimes. His real name is.......Eugene."

Tod put his head in his hands.

"So, you're telling me, he's called Eugene, but you just call him Tod sometimes?" The man asked, not sounding convinced.

"Ah-ha."

"....Riiiiiight. I think I need to step inside."

Linda Waggner put her arm across the door to stop him.

"No, I er...Don't think that would be necessary," she replied, blocking his entry to their house.

"Mrs. Waggner, I have an authorisation to check whether your son is playing truant. Now, can I please come in and talk to you?" The Man looked pretty evil, so she decided to back down. Nervously, she gulped.

"Sure, come inside."

Tod sighed and dragged himself back over to the TV. It was just up to the windmill part of the Teletubbies. Tod's face lit up as he wondered whether they might get to see the wooden lion and bear wheeling around again, but his happiness was short lived as his Mum turned off the TV.

"Ohhhhhhh!!" He groaned in annoyance.

"Now, Mrs. Waggner, Eugene," The man addressed them. "My name is G. Ayfool, I'm your local truant officer-."

"For gods sakes, my boy's only been off a couple of hours! I forgot to phone the school!" Linda Waggner erupted.

"Yes, well, we will take that into account, Mrs. Waggner," G. Ayfool replied. He turned to Tod, and forced a fake smile. "Now, Eugene, don't you think it's time you stopped all this, and told me your real name?"

Tod looked down at his hands. "It's not Eugene. It's Tod. Tod Waggner," he replied solemnly. "I'm sorry for lying to you Mr Ayfool."

"Apology accepted," G. Ayfool replied. He brought out a notebook. "Now all you have to do is tell me why you're having a day off, then I'll go, and everything will be fine."

"And if he doesn't tell you why he's having a day off? What will happen then?" Linda persisted.

"Then I'll have to notify the education commitee. You don't want that, do you Linda?" G. Ayfool answered smugly.

"I'd appreciate it if you called me Mrs. Waggner," she replied in an uptight kind of way. She turned to her son. "Tod, why don't you tell the man why you're off school."

Tod gave her an angry look, as if she had deliberately put all the blame on him.

"Yes," he begun. "I'm off school, because I am sick, with a stomach bug...Yeah. A stomach bug. I can't stop throwing up. Honest." He suddenly got up out of his seat and ran to the door. "I'm sorry, would you please excuse me for a moment? I need to throw up again."

G. Ayfool pulled a disgusted face and noted something down on his clipboard. He got to his feet.

"Right, well, If that's all, I'll be off."

"Good afternoon Mr. Ayfool," Linda replied as she showed him the door.


	5. Chapter Five

"Should we wake him?" Ken Browning asked, as they put down the video camera.

"Well, we've got an hours worth of him asleep in his cereal," his wife replied calmly.

"Yes, that'll go nicely with the rest of the stuff 'to get back at our son when he annoys us'."

"I'm sure it will."

Alex suddenly stirred in his sleep. 

"Monkeys...." he muttered drowsily.

"What's all this with the monkeys?" his dad asked, confused.

"I'm not entirely certain," Barbara replied, keeping an eye on Alex.

Alex's eyelids suddenly flickered open. He looked disorientated and confused.

"MONKEYS!!!!!!" He yelled, sitting up suddenly. 

Mrs. Browning went over to comfort him. "Alex sweetie, tell us what's troubling you?"

"M-m-monkeys. They're, they're e-everywhere," he stuttered. 

"Honey, I know the name of a good doctor," Ken began, putting a comforting hand on his son's shoulder. "He's worked with cases likes your before, I'm sure he'll be able to help you-."

"You mean, a shrink?" Alex snapped back angrily. "You think I'm crazy?"

Ken sighed and looked to his wife. Barbara Browning shrugged in reply.

"Yeah. We do," Ken answered bluntly. "This monkey business has been going on long enough. I have had enough of being woken in the night because of you keeping guard with the aid of baseball bats."

"Yeah," Barbara replied. "So, if you can't talk to us about the problem, you can talk to Dr. Schreck instead."

"Schreck?" Alex replied. "I recognise that name."

"Oh, yeah, he's that FBI agent's brother, you know, the one's who tried to make you admit you took heroin?"

"The plane explosion people," Alex sighed sadly. He wished people wouldn't blame him.

"I know it's been hard for you since the crash," his mum soothed.

"Yeah, which reminds me," Ken interrupted suddenly. "You had the vision of Saturday's Lottery numbers yet? Cos time's ticking away boy."

Alex shook his head.

"Not yet Dad. I have had a vision of Carter falling down the stairs though. I hope that comes true."

"Now, now, Alex, you don't mean that," his mum began.

"I do."

"Carter's a nice young man."

"My arse he is," Alex answered back rudely.

"He is. He asked for that brick back politely didn't he? Such a nice boy."

"You crazy? He's horrible to everyone in sight apart from Terry Chaney. He's the most obnoxious insensitive prick I've ever met!" Alex yelled in annoyance.

"Nobody's perfect."

"Ahhhhhh!" Alex cried, frustrated and completely pissed off. "What can I do to make you listen to me?"

"All right, all right, calm down, calm down."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Alex apologised.

"No, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," his mum replied. "I shouldn't go on like I do."

"No, I shouldn't be so rude all the time."

"Well," Ken Browning interrupted. "If this is apology time, I'm sorry for breaking your vase Barb."

"You broke my vase? I thought that was Alex's fault."

"You thought it was _me_ who broke your vase? Why? Why did you just assume it was me?" Alex butted in.

"But I didn't-"

"Right," Ken said suddenly. "I can see I've just started a new argument here, so I'll be leaving now...."

He slipped out of the door.

__

Outside on the street, The Nine Inch Nails Featuring Terry Chaney were busking away.....

Carter leaned against a tree, what was left of his credibility having been taken from him. He was wearing a scruffy shirt with paint splodges all over the front, and a huge pair of faded mankified blue shorts with huge pockets on the sides. He had had massive loops put into his trainers and was wearing an old grandad's flat cap.

"Step right up," he said in a voice with about as much enthusiasm as......well, I can't be bothered to liken it to anything, but you know what I mean. "And see the groovy Nine Inch Nails performing with their latest edition.." He paused and looked at Trent. "You know, I really don't see the point of these clothes."

"If you wore your normal clothes, you'd look cooler than us," Trent replied in a matter of fact kind of way. Carter smiled as if they were paying him some kind of twisted compliment. 

"Yeah," Tyler added. "You have to look crap compared to us to make us look better. Now carry on shouting. We're not paying you a cent an hour to stand there."

Carter sighed and looked to Terry. In his opinion, she looked hot in her leather trousers and jacket. It was at times like these he wished he wasn't dressed like a complete and utter dickhead. But that was the way it was, and at that point in time he had about as much chance of getting into bed with her as his parents giving up their obsession with gardening. He caught her eye and she smirked in a smug kind of way.

'Wow', Carter thought, unable to help himself from lusting after the gorgeous creature he saw infront of him. (From Carter's point of view by the way, NOT mine, to set the record straight for anyone waiting for a chance to label me as a lesbian, not to name names but you know who you are Adam and Calum.)

"Excuse me?" Trent interrupted his thoughts. "We haven't got all day you know."

"Oh, yeah, right," Carter replied sadly. He couldn't believe he had once idolised this band. They were such creeps. He was convinced that after this, unless Terry found his appearance hilariously funny, she would go off and probably get married to one of them. If any, he expected it to be Trent. He kept smiling and laughing with her as Carter stood there looking like someone stuck in an eighties time warp. Terry kept giggling and flirting back aswell. It was too much to bear.

'So this is how the Carter and Terry sage ends,' he thought poetically. 'Losing her to the lead singer of a famous rock band.'

He was suddenly brought back to the real world by Tyler waving his hand infront of his face.

"Hello?" Tyler asked in a mean kind of way. "Anybody there?"

"You're useless," Trent told him plainly. "Why did we even hire you?"

"I'm not sure," Carter replied quietly, looking down at his hideously uncool trainers. Oh yeah, he was definitely slipping further and further down the social ranking system. Right to the bottom. Pretty soon, he's be even sadder than Billy- No, wait. He already _was _sadder than Billy.

"You're so stupid, you know that?" Tyler insulted him. Once again, Carter snapped out of his deep thoughts. He was almost turning into the artistic poetical type that he was dressed as, but then again, I'm going into these thoughts again so I'll stop. He turned his head and looked at Terry again. She didn't notice him looking at her. Terry didn't attempt to stop them insulting him, but then again, she wasn't saying anything herself. He tried to remember why she was even being so cold towards him. He finally concluded that it was the result of his months of neglect towards her. The times he'd stood her up or been rude to her. Stuff like that.

"Oh, you're soooo fired!!" Trent shouted suddenly. Carter tried to look Trent in the eyes, but he couldn't take his eyes off Terry. He suddenly longed for her to forgive him. He wished she would just run away with him, away from the mailicous Nine Inch Nails. He wished they would run away back to his bedroom. He wanted her so bad.

"Carl, GO!" Tyler yelled, pointing across the street as if he was a puppy. "Go, get the hell out of here!"

Carter nodded slowly and took a step backwards. 

"Terry?" he said dreamily, staring into her eyes. "You look really, really, really beautiful."

Then he turned and walked off down the street. He could hear the band laughing at him as he disappeared around the corner. Calling him a geek. It was actually quite weird. Before they had arrived, he was one of the coolest guys in school. It just goes to show that when a famous rock band turns up they can seriously cramp your style.

Clear finished her sketch and put down her pencil, admiring her work. She had always been good at art. She had always loved art. It was probably the only thing she had left in her life. She picked up the paper and walked over to the chest of drawers. Opening the drawer, she placed the picture face up carefully. It was a picture of Alex. She couldn't stop thinking about him. There was something about the guy. Ever since the plane explosion she'd come to realise that. She was one of the few people who didn't see him as a freak. But he probably didn't even notice her. He probably thought she was a freak. But he didn't understand. Not many people did.

Then again, do you think Clear would like him as much if she knew about his fear of plastic hanging monkeys? Me neither.


	6. Chapter Six

'Wow,' Tod thought as he stared at the screen. 'Who would have thought that the pie would be hiding in the cupboard?"

He watched intently as Barney the dinosaur bounced onto the screen followed by his posse of annoying little jerks.

"I love him, he loves me," Barney sang. "We're the leaders family."

'Pure genius,' Tod thought, totally in awe of the purple dinosaur.

"Two plus two is four, two plus two is four," Barney continued. Tod couldn't believe how enjoyable these baby programmes were turning out to be. Linda Waggner walked in at that moment with a dummy and a plate of rusks.

"Here you go baby," she said as she handed them over to him.

__

I think I went a bit too far there, but so what?

__

The Horton Residence- That Evening:

Carter sat on the edge of his bed trying to remember the embarassmet of being a geek for the day. He was glad he didn't have to be one every day like Billy. He knew he just wouldn't be able to deal with it. His mind started to wander and he remembered how sexy Terry had looked while she was with the band. 

She was probably out with Trent though. And Tyler, and all the rest of the gay little band. He sighed, feeling frustrated and pissed off.

"Carter?" 

He turned his head to the window, to see Terry climbing in.

"Terry? What the hell?"

She was still wearing the leather clothes. Carter struggled to keep his eyes on her face as she closed the window behind her. He gulped and got to his feet.

"Wow Terry," he said, trying to concentrate on what he was saying. "It's at times like these I wish you weren't mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you," Terry replied in a sultry kind of way. She walked over to him and unzipped the jacket. "It's hot in here Carter," she commented. "You got the heating on or something?"

"N-no," Carter replied finding it increasingly difficult to keep his hands off her. Terry smiled, knowing she was playing havoc with his hormones and loving every minute of it.

"Maybe it's just me," she replied, slipping off the jacket. She was wearing a tight black top underneath.

'Oh my god,' Carter thought. 'This is just too much'. He scratched the back of his neck and turned around to face the door. 

"W-where are Trent and the rest of the guys?"

"Oh, they went back home. It wasn't right I suppose," Terry replied, putting her hands on his shoulders. "You're tense. You should try to relax."

"Yeah," Carter answered, his voice shaking. 

"Here, let me help you," Terry told him, massaging his shoulders. Carter sighed. He was definitely forgiven.

__

Sometimes, I really wonder about the state of my mentality. But then I remember, I'm sad. So it's okay. And in case you aren't paying attention:

Carter jumped into the air and went right through the ceiling into outer space, where he met funny little purple and green men who played hospipes at funerals and to get back to his house he had to climb a ladder made entirely from spaghetti.

__

Awake now? Thankyou.

Terry wound her arms around Carter's neck. "Nice trip?"

"Yeah. The spaghetti was the best bit," Carter replied, smirking. 

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Terry said. "Let's just hope you enjoy this even more."

Da da da da da........Moving swiftly on....

Billy lay on the sofa watching Sports Centre. He had just finished listening to another self help tape and he felt like he could do anything.

"Bitch!" He yelled at the top of his voice. "Get me a beer, right now!"

Mrs. Hitchcock appeared in the door frame. "Honey, what have I told you about saying 'Please', and 'Thankyou'?"

Billy turned his head to face her. "I forget. Now what the hell did I just say?"

Mrs. Hitchcock sighed. "William, you've got to learn to ask prop-."

"SHUT THE HELL UP AND GET ME SOME BOOZE!!!"

"Yes dear."

She appeared a second later with a bottle and gave it to him. 

"Here you go precious," she announced, handing it over. Billy snatched it off her without a word. "And another thing."

"What the bloody hell do you want now? Isn't my company enough pleasure for you?"

"Honey, did you let the goat in the house?" Mrs. Hitchcock asked staring intently at him. Billy shook his head vigorously.

"No."

"Did you?"

"No."

"You did."

"No I didn't."

"Baby, it's a simple question. Let's be honest. Did you let the goat in the house or what?"

"No."

"I think you did Honey. Don't lie to me now sweetie."

"I'm not lying, and I did not let the goat in the house, I swear."

"Then why is there goat shit all down the hallway?"

Billy looked shocked and gasped. He put his hand to his heart. 

"What? You think _I_ let the goat in the house? I most certainly would not let the goat shit all down our hallway Mom."

"Don't use language like that infront of me William."

"But you just-."

"No, no. I think you need to go and apologise to me and your father, then get the mop and clean it-."

"I didn't do it!!!!!" Billy yelled. "For the last time, I did not let that sodding goat in our house. I hate the damn bugger! Why would I let it in? I wish you'd never bought me that frigging goat because I'd rather it walked into the road and died than have it walking around like it owned the place!"

Mrs. Hitchcock looked hurt. "William.." She warned.

"No Mom. I'm sick of going about saying, 'Oooooh, I love it when the goat chews my duvet', or 'My clothes have been ripped and I can't go out with my friends, I'm ecstastic,' but most of all, I hate having to say 'I love my goat so much that I don't give a flying monkeys arse that it ate my brithday cake and trampled on my presents then threw up all over my friends rendering me uncool and unpopular!!!" Billy yelled at the top of his voice.

"Honey, I had no idea-."

"Yeah well get over it Mom. Before we got that Goat I was Mt. Abraham Junior high's coolest student. Now look at me! NOW LOOK AT ME!!!" Billy pointed to his clothes, totally losing his marbles as his mum looked on, speechless. "I'm the saddest in the school Mom!!"

"Billy, you can't blame the goat for all this."

"Yes I frigging well can! I was cool! I was popular! Everyone liked me, everyone dressed like me, all the girls walked around telling each other how much they wanted to go out with me! But not any more. Cos it's the end of the road for Billy Hitchcock now. All thanks to Fluffy, the 'Wonder Goat'," Billy continued holding up two fingers to show inverted commas.

"Well Geez, I know you don't like the damn thing but there's no need for that," His Mom answered after a long awkward silence.

Carter put his hands in his pockets and left the house grinning all over his face. Confidently, he began strutting down the street thinking he was ace. The song 'Stayin Alive' began to play faintly in the background. Carter noticed a group of girls on the other side of the road and flashed his best smile at them. They giggled and waved back.

"Carter," A voice asked. Carter turned around. It was Cynthia Paster, a girl from his history class. In Carter's opinion, she had everything. Looks, personality, brains, whatever else people are meant to have to make them perfect. She had a reputation of being Little Miss Perfect. Straight A's. Never drank, smoked or did drugs. 

"Oh, hey Cynthia," Carter replied. "What is it?"

"You know that history assignment we got set?" she replied in a sweet girly voice, tossing her long glossy blonde hair over her shoulders. Carter nodded. "Well, I'm kinda stuck with it and-."

"Woah, wait a second," Carter replied in disbelief. "_You're _stuck? I don't think so baby. You're the smartest girl in the school."

"Well thanks Carter," Cyntia replied giving him a cute smile. "But It's true. I know this might sound a little strange, but, is there any possibility you could.......Help me out?"

Carter hesitated for a second. 

"Please?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied smiling back.

"Great. You can come round to my house tonight about eight. Then we can sort this out together."

"I guess."

"Thanks Carter," Cynthia replied. She stepped closer to him. "You're so sweet."

Then she walked off down the street.

__

7:57pm- Cynthia Paster's house.

Carter knocked on the door, his history books tucked under his arm. He wasn't sure exactly what she was up to. After all, the smartest girl in school asking for his help? He didn't even know what two add two was for God's sake. It was highly suspicious, he had to admit that. The door suddenly opened.

"Oh, you must be the nice young man who's come to help Cynthia out with her homework," Mrs. Paster greeted him. "Come in. Cynthia's room's the first on the right."

Carter nodded and stepped inside. He made his way up the stairs. Uncertainly, he knocked on her bedroom door.

"Come in," a voice beckoned. Carter took hold of the door handle and went inside. Cynthia was sitting at her desk. She got up as he entered the room.

"Carter, hi," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. Her room was all pink and girly. "Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, well," Carter replied, looking around. "It's no problem."

"So, we gonna hit the books?" Cynthia asked, noticing Carter had them under his arm.

"Yeah."

"You're not talking much," Cynthia observed, staring at him. She was in a pink dressing gown. She noticed him looking and laughed. "Oh, I just had a shower. I didn't see the point in getting dressed again."

"No, no, that's great. I mean, that's fine," Carter answered, standing awkwardly by the door.

"You can sit down if you like," she invited him.

"Thanks."

He walked over and sat down on the side of the bed, putting his history books beside him. 

"So, what's the problem with this history?"

"All of it really," Cynthia replied. "I don't have a clue where to begin."

"Look, Cynthia, I'm not really sure why you asked me to help you. I'm not exactly a straight A student, you know that."

"Yeah. I know."

"Then why'd you ask me? Why didn't you ask someone smarter? You could have asked anyone."

"I know. But, the thing is, Carter," Cynthia began, looking down at her hands. She sat down on a chair, and wrapped her arms around her knees. "I wanted to ask you."

"Why?"

"Because....." She hesitated. "Because you're fun. You're cool. You know how to enjoy life."

"And what's that got to do with history?" Carter interrogated her.

"My parents don't let me do anything. According to them I'm the sweet perfect angel of a daughter."

"Cynthia, you are a sweet perfect angel, that's just it," Carter answered. Cynthia smiled.

"Awww, that's sweet of you to say that to me, but I sometimes wish I could be more like," she paused. "Like you."

"Like me? Why?"

"Don't you get it?" she replied suddenly. "I'm not stuck with my history. I'm not stuck with anything. I just wanted to get you over here."

Carter was silent for a moment. He was flattered by her saying it, but he felt slightly uneased by it too. Cynthia got up and walked over to him. She stood infront of him and looked down at him, smiling her innocent smile.

"You're so different from the other guys Carter," she complimented him. "You know how to treat a girl."

"Cynthia-." Carter began in a warning tone.

"You don't know what it's like for someone like me," She continued. "I've liked you for so long."

"Cynthia, I don't think you understand," Carter struggled to protest. "I mean..Er...What about Billy? He's crazy about you."

"Billy Hitchcock is a dork," Cynthia replied. "I want you."

Before he could stop her, Cynthia was kissing him, and Carter didn't stop her.

"Cynthia, I have a girlfriend," Carter replied, not sure what he could do to get out of the situation.

"That didn't stop you kissing me."

"Yeah I know, but-."

"But what?"

Slowly, she untied the knot in her dressing gown cord and removed her dressing gown. She had pink vest and shorts pyjamas on underneath. Carter didn't know what he was going to do. He loved Terry. That was it. That was all that it should be. But then he remembered how she'd carried off with Nine Inch Nails. He remembered how hurt he'd been. How small she'd made him feel. She could really be a malicious bitch at times.

"Please Carter," Cynthia asked. "Don't stop." Before he could realise what he was doing, he kissed her again.......

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!" Carter screamed as he sat bolt upright in his bed. He wiped his brow with his hand, wondering what the hell was going on. 

"What the hell?" 

He couldn't even begin to understand what had made him dream something like that. Cynthia Paster was a geek. She wasn't beautiful. She stayed at home and read the dictionary when everyone else was out enjoying themselves. And besides, he had Terry. Sometimes he really began to wonder about himself. He glanced across at his alarm clock. It was 3:30am. Feeling slightly confused, he rolled over and tried to get back to sleep.


	7. Chapter Seven

__

The Next Morning...

"Terry?" Carter called as he raced up to her.

"What is it baby?" Terry asked as he finally caught up with her. In reply, Carter grabbed hold of her and gave her the most passionate kiss he could manage.

"What was that for?" Terry asked when he finally let her go, wondering what he was playing at.

"I just wanted to make sure I still loved you," Carter answered smarmily, realising that he did. That Cynthia Paster dream was just a one-off ridiculous piece of crap his brain had made up to taunt him with, it was obvious.

"You Love me?" Terry repeated.

"Yeah. You love me too, right?"

"Right."

"Say it," Carter asked, taking her hands.

"What's up with you today Carter?" Terry asked. "You're acting kinda strange."

"Just say it."

"Carter Horton, I love you," Terry told him, giggling uncertainly.

"Great. Let's get married," Carter answered quickly.

"Married? Carter we're 17 years old, we can't get married."

"Okay," Carter hesitated, trying to come up with something. "Let's have kids."

"Carter, this is getting too weird," Terry told him. "Something's worrying you. You can tell me."

"Can I?" Carter replied. "I'm not sure I can. I had this.....this dream, Terry."

"So what? We all have dreams."

"Yeah, but mine was about Cynthia Paster."

"Cynthia Paster? That geek?" Terry repeated in disbelief.

"Yeah. Except she wasn't a geek in my dream. She was gorgeous."

Terry started to look annoyed then. "Oh yeah? And what happened between you and this gorgeous geek?"

"Er......Let's not go into that," Carter replied.

"What happened?" Terry persisted, folding her arms.

"She kissed me."

"So?" Terry replied in a mocking tone of voice. "Cheap thrills Carter."

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't make fun of me," Carter answered. "This was weird. She kissed me, and I liked it."

Terry began to look slightly hurt by that remark.

"Oh really?" she asked, feeling jealous. "Do you like the geeks Carter? Would you rather I was a geek? Would that turn you on?" Terry continued selfishly before Carter could answer. "Or maybe you should just dump me and ask out your precious Cynthia."

"Terry, would you let me finish?" Carter interrupted suddenly. "I woke up before anything else happened, but....It really freaked me out."

"So, you're saying, that if you hadn't woken up, you would have done it with her?"

"I'm not sure, but If I had to give you an anwer.......Maybe."

"You mean yes?" Terry repeated, filling in the answer Carter couldn't admit. Then she smiled. "Well it doesn't really matter does it?"

"It doesn't?" Carter replied, a glint of hope in his eye.

"No. Cos in real life, Cynthia's a geek, I'm your girlfriend, none of it really happened and...."

"And what?"

"And I forgot to tell you I managed to get two backstage passes to the next Nine Inch Nails Concert."

Carter snorted in a snobby kind of way. "Nine Inch Nails," He scoffed putting an entirely different spin on the name. 

"What is it baby?" Terry asked, touching his arm. "Don't you want to go?"

"Well, there's a part of me that still wants to, you know," Carter explained. "But then there's this other part, which reminds me what selfish, caniving, slimy, lecherous, son-of-a-bitch, no good, god damn, heckling, spiteful, mean, unkind, horrible, people they were and that part of me tells me not to increase their wealth by going to their stupid concert."

"Right...." Terry answered slowly. "And which part of you wins?"

"Let's go."

"Now Alex," Dr. Schreck announced, crossing his legs, holding the notepad in his hands. "What seems to be the problem?"

Alex sat in a chair hunched up and rubbing his hands together nervously. "Monkeys," he whispered.

"Monkeys?" Dr. Schreck repeated. "You mean chimpanzees and gorillas? Like in a zoo or something?"

"No. Plastic monkeys," Alex continued. He looked up. "You think I'm crazy don't you?"

"Oh, no, no, course not," the psychiatrist replied, as he wrote 'insane' in his notebook. "What do these plastic monkeys do?"

"They come alive, at night. Only in the dark, not in the light. They can't get me in the light, only the dark, so....I leave my light on every night."

"What would they do to you?"

"They would kill me," Alex hissed in a sinister voice. "Once, my light exploded and they were crawling up my covers to get me. But my parents came in and they went away."

Dr. Schreck leaned forward in his chair. "Alex, they are made of plastic. I can assure you they don't come alive."

"What do you know? They do!"

"Your parents have told me you've been losing sleep over this problem," the doctor continued.

"Yeah. I sit up with a baseball bat."

"Have you ever thought about throwing them in the bin?"

"I have, but they always come back," Alex explained seriously. "They won't leave me be until I'm dead."

"Alex," Dr.Schreck began, ready to launch into his lecture. "Sometimes, people develop problems like this, after a traumatic event. I understand, you have been involved in one of these recently."

Alex nodded slowly. "Yeah. Flight 180 to Paris. I got off because I had this....Premonition. I saved six lives, and everybody in my entire school thinks I'm a freak."

"It must be really hard for you."

"It is. But I'll cope. You don't need to worry about me," Alex told him firmly. Dr. Schreck suddenly looked at his watch.

"Oh, would you look at the time?" he announced in mock amazement. "Our time's up for today. What do you say we meet up again, same time next week?"

"Sure," Alex replied.

"So, Alex," Ken Browning asked as they drove home. "Did the nice doctor help you?"

"Not really," Alex sighed ungratefully.

"Well he bloody well better start helping then! Cos I'm not paying $30 a session just so you can sit there on your lazy fat arse!"

"Dad!" Alex snapped. "Stop it!"

He stared out of the window absent mindedly. The car behind was proving to be increasingly annoying.

"If they beep their horn at me again!" Ken said in a warning tone. "I'm gonna fucking twat them!"

Alex glanced in the rear view mirror and realised it was Carter. His eyes opened wide in shock. The horn beeped again.

"Right!" Ken yelled slamming on the brakes as hard as he could. Alex was thrown violently forward in his seat as the car screeched to a halt. Then he got thrown forward again, his seatbelt almost choking him. Carter had smashed into the back of them. Before Alex could stop him, his Dad had got out of the car. Carter had also got out, looking meaner and angrier than Alex had ever seen him before.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Carter yelled. "Look at what you did to my car!"

"Look at what _you _did to _my _car!" Ken yelled back at the top of his voice. "What the hell are you trying to do?"

"Hey, old man, I'm just driving the speed limit okay?" Carter snapped back. "If you can't handle it you shouldn't be on the road."

The door slammed as Terry got out of the passenger seat.

"Carter," she warned. "Let's just go, plea-."

"Oh, so _you're _Carter?!" Ken Browning interrupted in a high and mighty voice. "You're the one who's been throwing bricks through our window and making our son's life a living hell!"

Inside the car, Alex had his face in hid hands, cringing.

"Yeah, I am!"

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Ken Browning yelled lunging for Carter. He held Carter down on the bonnet of his car by the neck of his shirt. "Don't you ever come near Alex again! You hear me? If I ever see you round my house again, I'm calling the police."

"Oooh, I'm so scared," Carter taunted back. Terry stood by, not sure what to do.

"You better be," Ken spat back viciously. "Look at you, you think you're so hard don't you?"

Carter nodded smarmily.

"Well," Ken continued, producing a hammer from behind his back. "Let's see if you're hard when I do this!" He charged at the windscreen of Carter's car and smashed it in.


	8. Chapter Eight

__

Before we go on with this riveting story, I just want to remind you all of something.......Er......No, I don't actually. But its 11:50pm now, and I'm getting pretty tired. I've just seen Idle Hands cos Devon Sawa's in it. I know a lot of people, especially the critics say it sucked, but fortunately for me I'm extremely immature, so I found it entertaining. Especially the cat being thrown out the window. Funny or what? I think I actually had to mention that in some of this story aswell, but that's just me isn't it?

So, where were we? Chapter 8? Ooooooh, how will this road rage incident end? The suspense is killing me!

For a moment, Carter stood still, his mouth wide open in shock. Then his fists clenched by his sides and he took a step towards Ken Browning.

"I don't know what the hell you're trying to do," he hissed, his voice full of rage. "But you're gonna pay for that."

Carter smirked as Ken looked on in bewilderment. Then Carter got out his switchblade and walked over to the tyre of Alex and his dad's car. He brought back the blade ready to stab the tyre and puncture it, but he hadn't been counting on Alex jumping out at that moment. 

"Drop that knife!" Alex shrieked as he dived out of the passenger seat. He knocked Carter to the ground and pinned him down by the arms.

"That's my boy!" Ken Browning cheered, clapping his hands. "Twat the bugger Alex!"

"Well," Mrs. Browning sighed as she walked the two of them out of the police station. "I've never been so embarassed in all my life."

"Look, Barb, we're sorry," Ken apologised. "But, the son of a bitch was asking for it."

"Big time," Alex added.

"You can shut up an all," Mrs. Browning snapped back. "You're grounded forever for this."

"But-."

"No. I have never been so humilliated in all of my life! I've had Mrs. Horton on the phone demanding an explantion and virtually the whole neighbourhood's been talking about you. We were pillars of the community Ken."

"Oh give it a rest," Ken replied. "We're not exactly royalty are we?"

"I think you're being totally insensitive."

"I think you're blowing everything totally out of proportion."

"Mum, Dad, please, it was Carter's fault," Alex pleaded. Ken nodded and pointed to his son as if he were saying 'he's right'.

"True, true," his Dad commented.

"Will you two stop playing the blame game?" Barbara snarled angrily.

"No!" Ken and Alex cried back in unison. "We've got to blame someone."

"How about you blame yourselves?"

"Okay," Alex replied. "It was him." He pointed to his father at exactly the same moment that his father pointed at him.

"Ohhhhhhhh," Mrs. Browing sighed in despair. "I give up. I don't know why men have to get into fights. Women just talk about stuff, rationally."

"BORING!" Alex shouted rudely. "I've been waiting for a decent excuse to kick his ass all week."

"But why do you need to kick anybody's ass? Can't you just play jigsaws or monopoly?"

"I think not," Alex remarked. "Kicking people's asses is what life is all about. Guys live for the day when they can kick other guy's asses. We all have our enemies Mum. It's not personal, it's just that when you go into high school, they have this meeting. This meeting where you have to pick a name out of a hat, and that person is your arch enemy forever. 

Even if you were friends with them before, you have to obey the rules. 'Kick enemies ass whenever you get the chance', 'heckle the enemy', 'hide in the enemies bedroom and scare the hell out of them', and so on and so forth," Alex explained. "In my case, I picked Carter Horton. He picked Billy Hitchcock, Tod picked himself by some hilarious mistake."

"What a load of crap!" Mrs. Browning yelled back. "I've never heard such rubbish before in my life? Arch enemies? Meetings? I'm sorry Alex but that just seems like a pointless waste of time to me."

"Well, it does to you, but in my society, it's the way of the world."

"Yeah, and in my society, you're going up to your room and never coming down until dinner!" Mrs. Browning replied sternly.

Tod was getting bored at home, since the baby programmes had finished a long time ago. Linda Waggner entered the room.

"Tod, since George is dead, we are going to shower you with love," she told him, in a happy voice. 

"Sounds great."

"I've just had Mrs. Browning on the phone, she doesn't know what to do."

"Eh?"

"Alex and Ken somehow got into a road rage incident with Carter," his Mum explained. 

"A likely story," Tod commented as he flicked through the channels.

"Well, I invited them over tonight. Ken's in a right stress apparantly."

"What? Alex is allowed to see me?"

"Yeah, but don't tell your father," Linda said in a quiet voice. "You know what would happen if he found out."

Tod nodded.

"I think now's the time to tell you, that George was always your Dad's favourite," she continued. Tod looked hurt then. "But don't worry, because you were always _my _favourite. Who cares about George? Now you're the only child, you must have whatever you want. And, that's why, Alex is coming round tonight."

"Who's coming round tonight?" Jerry Waggner asked as he entered the room looking like satan himself. "It better not be that god-damn son a bitch Alex Browning!"

"Jerry!" Linda said quickly. "Don't call Barbara a bitch."

"You know what I mean. That boy cost George his life. And I'm not gonna let him forget that!"

"Dad, it wasn't Alex's fault, really, it wasn't," Tod replied, trying to persuade his father.

"My arse," Jerry scoffed. 

"Jerry, I think it's time we took you to the basement," Linda Waggner said slowly. Then, with obvious experience, she nodded at Tod, who nodded back. Then they charged at him and grabbed him.

"Help!" Jerry Waggner cried. "NOT THE BASEMENT!! Anything but the basement, please!!!!"

But they didn't listen, instead, they threw him down the stairs into the cold, dark, damp room known as the basement.

"You bitch Linda! Let me out right this second!" He yelled banging his fists on the door.

"No Jerry. Alex is coming round tonight with his mum and I'm not letting you anywhere near him!"

"Oh my poor little baby!" Mrs. Horton said as she brought in a tray of food for Carter. "How dare that nasty man smash your poor little car in."

Carter didn't respond. He just continued watching the television. Mrs. Horton passed him the tray.

"You got everything you need honey bun?"

"Sure Mom."

"Awww, my poor lickle angel," Mrs. Horton soothed in a baby voice. "I bet you were really scared."

"Yeah," Carter sighed. He stared at the TV screen, to see Thomas the tank engine travelling along the branch line.

"Thomas often travelled along the branch line," Ringo Starr's voice announced. "He liked the trees on the way, and sometimes the birds hit his windscreen."

"Well, if you're sure you're okay Carter," Mrs. Horton replied. "I'll leave you to watch the TV."

Carter nodded without a word.

"Thomas liked it when the birds hit his windscreen," Ringo Starr's voice continued. "He liked to play a game where he tried to get as many splattered birds on his windscreen as he could. It was rather enjoyable."

As soon as his Mum was out of ear-shot, Carter switched over the channel.

"And now," The TV man's voice announced. "What happens when Surgery goes wrong."

"All right!" Carter yelled happily.

"Look, Linda, are you sure about this?" Barbara Browning asked as she entered the Waggner's lounge.

"Yeah, whatever," Linda answered. "Jerry's gone to a bar somewhere."

"No I bloody well haven't!" A voice shouted from somewhere.

"What was that?" Barbara asked, looking around.

"Er.....The wind?"

Alex followed his Mum in and looked around. There was no sign of Tod anywhere. The house looked surprisingly neat and tidy, and Alex couldn't help but notice that there was a newly framed Picture of Tod and George together on the mantlepiece.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Linda commented as she caught Alex's eye. Alex stared blankly for a second.

"Oh.....Yeah," he answered. 

"Alex!" A voice called suddenly. Alex looked up to see Tod coming down the stairs. "Hey, Alex, what's up?"

"Hey Tod." Alex replied, not really sure of what to say. "You weren't at school today, or yesterday. Why not?"

Tod shot a worried glance at his Mum.

"Er....." he paused trying to come up with something. "Why don't you come upstairs? I've got Tony Hawks 2."

Alex gave him a weird look for a few seconds before nodding slowly. Alex walked across to the bottom of the stairs, past the basement door. Just as he passed infront of it, the door shook violently, making Alex jump out of his skin.

"Come on you little bugger!" A muffled voice yelled. "Just try me!!!!! Just try me!!!!!!"

Linda noticed Alex's expression and tried to dismiss the incident.

"Oh, you really should ignore that," she told him.

Alex nodded unsurely and followed Tod up the stairs.

"See, I got Tony Hawks 2 on the cheap because people trampled on it in a stampede in Wallmart," Tod explained, noticing Alex's expression as he produced the smashed case from inside his desk drawer.

"Nice," Alex commented. It felt weird. He hadn't seen his friend for so long, and now, he felt like they were strangers. He felt like he couldn't talk to Tod anymore. He knew he wasn't wanted in the house and he could feel it. And he didn't like it. "Listen, Tod," he began uneasily. "I don't really feel right, you know, being in your house and all."

"Oh, forget about it," Tod replied dismissing the subject.

"You didn't have to to lock your Dad in the basement to protect me."

"As a matter of fact, we do that to Dad a lot," Tod answered casually. "When he gets drunk, or violent, it's just 'Oh Jerry, time for the basement again!' and that's it. He's used to it by now."

"Right."

"You don't have anything to feel guilty about Alex," Tod replied. "You're my best friend. I owe my life to you."

Alex suddenly felt uncomfortable again.

"Yeah, well, you know, I just want you to forget about that now. A lot of people think I'm crazy."

"A lot of people are tossers."

"Carter Horton?" Alex replied. "I'd say he was more of a dickhead."

"Yeah," Tod replied. He suddenly put the game back in the drawer again. "You know what?"

"No. What?"

"Tony Hawks sucks," Tod replied quickly. "Let's do something else."

Alex shot Tod an uncertain glance.

"Like what?"

"I dunno. What do you want to do?"

Alex shrugged.

"Right now, I want to die."

"Oh come on Alex, be sensible," Tod answered, his voice sounding a bit impatient.

"You really want to know what I want to do?"

"Try me."

"Well," Alex began, staring at Tod. "I think, we should climb out of your window and go to a bar somewhere."

"Great," Tod said. "But there's one slight hitch with that. How the hell are we gonna get served? We're 17 years old for christs sake!"

"You never know until you try," Alex persuaded with a hint of a smile.


	9. Chapter Nine

__

Alex as Cletus the slack-Jawed Yokel? Is it impossible? No, and it can be done, as you will see in this chapter. Am I a genius or what?

"Clear, I came by your house because.....................Because you left your...........Protractor, at school, and er.........I thought you might need it back or.....Something, you know.......So, can I come in? Get a cup of coffee or something? I walked all the way over here to give you this, I just thought, maybe..........If you wanted me to come over......er, anytime, then maybe-."

Suddenly the door swung open quickly. 

"Billy?" Clear asked in a shocked voice. "What the hell are you doing outside my house?"

In a moment of nervousness Billy forgot his carefully planned speech.

"Er.......Nice door handle you got there," he replied pathetically.

"Yeah. You noticed."

"Look, Clear, what I meant to say was that I wanted to come into your house and get a cup of coffee, so that maybe, if you wanted me, anytime-."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Wait, scratch that. I mean, you left your......Protractor at school today. I thought you might need it," Billy answered finally. Clear sighed, and scanned him up and down briefly.

"So, where is it?"

"Er........Ooops!" Billy replied in a fake kind of way. "I guess I left it at home, and after I walked all the way over to your house as well-."

"Billy, you live just down the street."

Clear was holding onto the door now, as if she was going to slam it in his face. She glanced at her watch.

"Look, it's 11pm, I'm going to bed. I think you better go home."

"Why don't you want to go out with me?" Billy blurted out suddenly.

"What?"

"I mean, is there something wrong with me or what? Am I too much of a square for you Clear?"

Clear looked shocked and shook her head.

"No. You're not a square Billy. It's just.........."

"It's the cap isn't it?" Billy answered for her. He took the red backwards baseball cap off his head. "Well, you know what? If the caps all that's stopping me hooking up with you, I'll get rid of it."

He threw the cap as far as he could over the bushes. "There. Happy now?"

"Billy, can we talk about this some other time?" Clear asked, beginning to feel increasingly awkward.

"Oh man, you mean it wasn't the cap? I threw my best cap away for nothing?" Billy began to look really upset and glanced across at the hedge as if he was wondering whether there was any hope of him getting his baseball cap back. Clear noticed his expression.

"I'll get it in the mornng," she told him.

"Thanks," Billy replied sadly. He scratched the back of his neck. "You know, I should have realised I was wasting your time."

"Billy-."

"No, it's okay Clear. I'm a geek, and your the arty loner and-."

"What do you mean, the 'arty loner'?"

"Er....Well, that's just what-."

"That's just what everyone thinks of me is it? The arty loner Marilyn Manson body pierced freak?"

"I never said that," Billy replied.

Clear sighed. "I know," she said, looking down at the ground, holding the door with one hand. "But that's what people think......Isn't it?"

"Who cares what they think?" Billy replied stubbornly. He took a step up onto the porch. "It doesn't matter. I think you're beautiful Clear."

Clear smiled awkwardly, not used to receiving compliments from anyone.

"No, I'm not."

"Er.........Yeah, you are," Billy persisted, suddenly feeling shy. "Listen, Clear, I'm gonna go now-."

"Oh Billy," Clear replied suddenly. "You're so sweet."

Billy smiled faintly.

"I- I am?"

"Yeah. You are."

Billy looked pleased then. He felt chuffed to bits with himself. Suddenly feeling like a cocky git, he tried his best to stand in a cool kind of way. He leaned casually on the porch door frame.

"Great," he said smugly. "All this 'Mr. Sensitive' crap has finally paid off."

"Hey, Billy," Clear replied also sounding smug. "I changed my mind. Why don't you step inside for a moment?"

"To do what?"

Clear looked him right in the eye. "Oh, I've got a few ideas."

"Me too!" Billy replied stupidly. "Hey, around this time of night, I usually swing my cat around my head and throw it out the window."

Clear's jaw suddenly dropped open in shock. 

"NO WAY! That's what I like doing too!"

"What a reach!" Billy yelled. "We have more in common than you think Miss Rivers."

Clear just grabbed him by the collar and dragged him inside the house.

Nervously, Alex pushed open the door of the bar and stepped inside, followed by Tod. They scanned the bar with their eyes. There were quite a lot of people sitting around on the various chairs, and the air was thick and heavy with smoke.

"Great," Alex commented as he tried to look cool, calm and collected. "This is gonna be Razor."

"Since when do you say 'Razor'?" Tod replied, feeling edgy and snappy. "It's just soooooooo Disturbing Behaviour."

"Hey, shut up, the barman's looking at us!" Alex hissed suddenly in Tod's ear. He caught the barman's eye, who looked them up and down suspiciously. Alex waved, trying his best to look friendly.

"Oh, hey there," he called out across the smoky room.

They walked as casually as they could over to the bar and made themselves comfortable on some stools. The barman stopped cleaning out a beer glass briefly to speak to them.

"So," the barman began. "What the hell brings you two here?"

"Nothing," Tod snapped back, almost giving the game away. "We're just a couple of twenty one year old guys looking for a drink. You got a problem with that?"

"Come on," the barman persisted. "You," he pointed at Alex, who was looking down at the bar. "You look screwed up kid. What's up?"

Alex raised his head slowly to meet the barman's eyes.

"Me?" He asked uncertainly. The barman gave a slight nod. "I got problems. Real problems."

"Yeah, he's psychic," Tod interrupted.

"Everybody hates me," Alex continued, trying his best to make the barman feel sorry for him. "I got fired from the potato factory and my chick keeps telling me to buy a better apartment. It's all downhill from here. I'm going under. I've got nothing left. I betted all my money on the greyhounds."

"Twelve hundred dollars," Tod added.

"I've even sold both my kidneys on the black market for a new set of tyres for my Mustang," Alex carried on, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "Brandine keeps telling me, Cletus, you gotta get yourself a proper job down the cracker factory, but I ain't no good at crackers. Only potatoes. Potatoes were my whole world man."

"That's too bad," the barman sympathised. "You sound really messed up."

"Yeah, I am. If I don't get a new job before the baby arrives, me, Brandine and Joey are gonna have to live out our suitcases," Alex concluded his harrowing tale of Slack-Jawed Yokel heartbreak.

"So your chicks having a baby?" The barman asked as he put another clean glass back on the shelf.

Alex suddenly looked indignant.

"Well it ain't mine," he replied sharply. "Brandine always was the type to play away. I suppose you can't blame her, what with me away at the potatoe factory the whole time. Hell, Joey ain't even mine. He's the result of the time me and Brandine went to the gas station," Alex was trying to drag out his ridiculous tale of woe as long as he could, for no reason except that I think this'll get a cheap laugh out of people. "I only went to the friggin bathroom for gods sakes. Turns out Joey's real dad's this guy named Gary. We ain't never seen him though. Nah, I'm just left to bring up the little bastard ain't I?"

"So, Cletus, do you and your friend want anything to drink?" The barman asked Alex as he wiped round another glass with his teatowel.

"Why not?" Alex replied sadly. Tod sat next to him, totally in awe of his friend for making up such a stupid story on the spot like that.

"What you drinking?"

"Scotch," Alex answered. He turned to Tod as the barman set about getting his drink. "I always wanted to say that," he whispered. The barman put down the glass on the bar.

"And what do you want?" he asked looking at Tod. Tod hesitated for a moment.

"I'll take scotch aswell."

"Excellent choice," the barman told Tod as he poured him a glass. He set it down on the bar and moved off to the other side, where some other customers were waiting.

"Wow dude," Tod gawped. "How the hell did you spout all that crap?"

"It's called Impro. All the great actors do it," Alex replied smugly. He glanced down at his drink. "So, you ever had Scotch before?"

Tod shook his head.

"Me neither," Alex agreed, picking up the glass. He knocked it back. For a moment, he looked okay, but I want something funny to happen so obviously it ain't gonna stay that way. He began to cough and splutter, and his face turned a shade of red. You could almost see steam coming out of his ears for God's sakes.

"Alex, you okay?" Tod questioned anxiously. Alex shook his head.

"It burns," he whispered, his voice hoarse. He coughed again and struggled to get off his stool. "I'm gonna, go get some water," he announced, getting to his feet. "See you in a minute."

"Yeah, sure man," Tod replied. He stared apprehensively at his Scotch for a minute before pushing it away.

"Not drinking your scotch tonight?" the barman announced, suddenly looking down at Tod again.

"Maybe later."

"You guys are twenty one right?"

"No. We're seventeen year old seniors from Mt. Abraham high school," Tod replied in the most sarcastic voice he could manage. There were a few moments of silence before both he and the barman burst out laughing.

"You guys really crack me up!" The barman shrieked.

**__**

MORE STORY COMING SOON!!!!!!!!!!!


	10. Chapter Ten

Tod laughed uncertainly. "Yeah, I guess we do."

"By the way, the name's Anton," The barman told him. 

"Yeah. I'm Carter," Tod replied, a sly smirk spreading across his face. "Carter Horton."

"You finished with that scotch yet Carter?" Anton asked, eyeing the untouched glass of alcohol.

"Er...Yeah, what the hell. I'll have a beer or something," Tod answered.

Just at that moment Alex re-appeared looking stupid as always.

"Hey, Cletus, where'd you go to?" Anton asked. Alex looked behind him, forgetting what he'd just been saying.

"Who? Me?"

"Well who else would I be talking to?"

"Oh, yeah.....Right."

"So the scotch didn't meet up to your expectations eh boys?"

"You could say that," Alex replied, his voice stil croaky. 

"Carter here's getting a beer," Anton informed Alex. Immediately, Alex spun round and scanned the bar anxiously. He had decided he had had one too many run-ins with Carter in th past week than was necessary, what with the hosepipe and the switchblade and all that.

"C-Carter?" Alex stuttered, his pupils dilating. If Carter really was here, he was gonna get his ass kicked for sure. No, in fact, it was an absolute certainty. Anton gave him a strange look.

"Have you been to a couple of bars already Cletus?"

"W-what? No," Alex dismissed it, shaking his head vigorously.

"Carter? Your friend? Sitting next to you?"

"W-what the-."

"Yeah, Al- I mean, Cletus," Tod butted in suddenly. "He's talking about me. I'm Carter, remember?"

Alex stared blankly for a moment, then nodded faintly as he began to catch on. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Poor guy," Anton sympathised. "He's losing his marbles."

"Thanks," Alex replied weakly. Even under a different identity he was insane.

"You'll be okay buddy," Tod told him reassuringly. "Everything'll sort itself out."

Anton smiled sympathetically and gave them a beer each.

__

Authors Note: Hmmmmmmm, it's been a while hasn't it? Well, I was told by a few people that the author's notes were good, so I'll keep doing it. Getting a few tie-ins from Idle Hands now aren't we? Why do I always do that? Mind you, my mate Claire came over to my house today and we had to watch the bit where Anton throws his cat out the window about five times. We just kept rewinding it and laughing our heads off............Okay then. I suppose that explains the barman's name. Oh whatever. If you're reading this, you probably haven't even seen Idle hands anyway, but so what? I'm a real sad git so It doens't really bother me how cheesy horror movies can become. I mean, the bit where he cuts his own hand off with a butchers knife and puts it in the microwave is going a bit too far really isn't it? Especially as he stands by the microwave shouting, "Fry!!". Hmmmmmmmm. Back to the story now shall we?

But before we do, let's have a little debate. Who thinks, that Billy is actually gonna get some action? Come on, seriously, what's going on? Am I actually gonna let him hook up with Clear in this story or am I going to deliberately spoil it again? I suppose you'll only know it you read on................

"Billy, wait," Clear said suddenly, pushing him away from her. Annoyed, Billy sighed and got up.

"I don't know whether I wanna be doing this."

"Doing what?" Billy replied, rolling his eyes.

"If we hook up tonight, tomorrow I'll just be some girl you'll be telling all your friends about," Clear explained. _Hmmm, wonder where I copied those words off? If anyone can tell me, I'll give you a big bag of sweeties!_

"What friends?"

"Oh come on Billy, you have friends," Clear persisted.

"Sometimes I'm not sure I do," he replied. "I mean, I thought Tod and Alex liked me, but-." He paused, noticing Clear's expression. "What is it Clear?"

"Oh Billy, I've been stupid leading you on like this," Clear said sadly.

__

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!! I'm maliciously spoiling his chances and I love it!

"What?!"

"I don't know how to tell you this, but-."

Billy didn't let her finish. He took the risk and took Clear by surprise and kissed her.

"I've always wanted to do that," he told her. "Even if you have a thing for Alex, It doesn't matter," Billy explained. Clear's expression softened.

"Aww, really?"

"Yeah. I just didn't wanna go through my life never having done that."

"Listen Billy, I'd love you to stay tonight, but I'd just be using you," Clear said after a long silence.

"So what? It wouldn't make any difference to me."

"It's just that, I've always liked Alex."

"Well why the hell didn't you ever talk to him?"

Clear shrugged, beginning to wonder that herself.

"I dunno. I guess I just thought he'd think I was some kind of a freak."

Billy laughed to himself.

"Oh, how the tables have turned," he scoffed. "It's Alex that's seen as a freak now sweetie."

"Don't be mean Billy," Clear snapped suddenly.

"What I'm trying to say, is that, right now, Alex needs some cheering up. He's totally screwed. I'm telling you, if someone doesn't make him feel wanted soon he's probably gonna try and kill himself," Billy concluded, never turning his gaze away from Clear's face.

"Thanks for that," Clear answered sarcastically. "So, what should I do?"

"Call him," Billy said quickly, without hesitation. "He likes you."

"You don't know that."

"Alex is a tortued soul Clear. He's got the whole 'Dark and Mysterious Psychic Superhero' thing going. He wants a bit of attention."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Clear asked, slightly confused.

"Cos I'm an idiot who likes to spoil his own chances of getting off with girls like you," Billy explained honestly. "Just forget everything that happened tonight. You can't know I feel like this about you, it'd just spoil the whole movie."

"Yeah," Clear agreed. "It'll be real awkward when you drag me off down the embankment by the railway track otherwise."

"Yeah, but I can still secretly be enjoying it can't I?" Billy replied jokily.

"I suppose," Clear answered awkwardly. "Look, Billy, this is getting kinda weird now. I think it would be best if you-."

"If I go? Sure baby, it's nothing new to me to be jerked around," Billy replied in a voice that made Clear feel even more uneasy than she already felt. He walked over to the door and strolled out, making out he didn't give a toss.

__

Anton's Bar- A Few Beers Later......

"So, I said," Alex began, the beer bottle sloshing around in his hand. "Get out, and stay out, you lazy no good bitch!"

"And she let you call her that?" Anton asked, intrigued.

"My Mum's a pretty cool chick," Alex explained, his voice slurring. 

"Cool," Anton commented. "Tell me another story about Brandine."

Alex looked confused. 

"Brandine? Brandine? Oh yeah, _Brandine_. My chick, right?"

"That would be the Brandine I was talking about, yes."

"Er........She er....One time she......Um.....She threw an empty bottle of tequila at my head and busted me open," Alex lied, making it up as he went along. "It hurt. I lay there for a week before anyone helped me."

"Ooooh, sounds harsh. Tell me Cletus, does your chick slap you about a lot?"

"Oh, yeah, sure."

"You should do something about that," Anton told him, staring at Alex. Alex smirked and took another drink of what must have been his sixth bottle.

"What, you mean, like, get out a sledgehammer on her or something? Electric carving knife? Threaten her with a table raised above my head? That kind of thing?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of a therapist or something," Anton replied.

"Oh, right."

"Hey, Alex, you went to a therapist today didn't you?" Tod asked, forgetting to call his friend 'Cletus'.

"Alex?" Anton repeated, confused.

"Er....Did I say Alex? Oh, sorry Cletus. I must have been thinking about that other person.......I know........Called Alex, you know what I mean, right Cletus?" Tod struggled to get out of a sticky situation.

"Er.......Sure, right," Alex replied uncertainly. "That guy."

"The really dorky one who sits at his computer and gets bricks thrown through his window and who everybody hates and calls him names and he wears girls clothes when he gets home and-."

Tod stopped to see Alex glaring angrilly at him. He saw this as the right time to stop talking.

"Yes, well, anyway," Alex began still staring evilly at his so-called best friend. "You really think I should go see a therapist or something? Aren't they all cranks?"

"Yeah," Anton replied honestly. "But I just thought I'd try to give you some advice."

"I was thinking of setting up a vigilante group actually," Alex answered in a serious voice, even though he wasn't pronouncing his words properly due to the alcohol.

__

Author's note: Don't I love people getting drunk in my stories?

"Really?" Anton replied not really sure what to make of the statement.

"Yeah. It might rattle a few cages, stir up some controversy, you know?"

"Not really," Anton sighed. "Look, Cletus, Carter, I don't really wanna pry but are you guys really over twenty one?"

"I keep telling you, yes!" Tod yelled, losing control of the volume of his voice.

"You don't look it," Anton told them, questioning what these two drunken idiots were up to.

"Thanks," Alex replied, deciding to interpret it as a compliment.

"Can I see some indentification please?"

"Oh Man!" Tod cried out. "I thought we were friends!"


	11. Chapter Eleven

"We are," Anton reassured them, taking a nervous step backwards.

"Don't you trust us Anton?"

"I just want to see your ID's, that's all," Anton replied sensibly. "Then I'll know you guys are telling the truth and you can get back to your beers."

"And if we aren't telling the truth?" Alex asked idiotically.

"Then I'll kick you out."

"You'd do that to your friends?"

"YES!" Anton shrieked getting tired of their annoying drunken voices.

"But we're buds man!"

"No, we friggin well aren't! Don't you think I talk to a lot of people in my line of work? I'm just a friendly guy," Anton explained, losing his cool.

"Not from where I'm standing you aren't," Alex scoffed.

"ID now please. Or you're both out of here," Anton warned, trying to sound like some kind of authority figure.

"We haven't got any," Tod said in a matter of fact kind of way. He smirked to himself, suddenly realising what kind of scheme he could get into.

"Okay, name, age and address now please," Anton demanded, suddenly sounding a lot less friendly.

"With pleasure," Tod replied smarmily. He glanced across at Alex, who stared at him as if he was wondering what the hell Tod was doing. "Carter Horton, age seventeen, 46 Letsbee Avenue."

"Stop jerking me around kid."

"I'm not. That's my address, really. I live there with my Mum, Kate Horton and my Dad, David. Ask anyone."

Anton had to admit he sounded convincing. Eventually after an uncertain silence he scribbled down the info on a piece of scrap paper. Then he looked up at Alex.

"Now, you, Cletus, where's this apartment of yours? What about a telephone number? Maybe I could call this 'Brandine' or whatever she's called."

"Brandine's taking calls around this time of night. She runs this samaritan's service, right? She's busy," Alex lied through his teeth. "So, you can't do that."

"I can do whatever I bloody well like while you're in my pub!" Anton shouted, feeling tired and annoyed.

"Okay, okay, take a chill pill," Alex remarked unwisely. Anton suddenly lunged forward and grabbed him by the neck of his Tee-shirt.

"Listen punk, I know you ain't called Cletus. I know, you don't have no kids. And believe me, I know, there's no such person as Brandine."

"You know a lot," Alex said pathetically.

"Yeah, I do. I know you're some scrawny kid trying to trick me into serving you. So give me your real name, age and address right this minute, or I'll pick you up, throw you across this bar, smash bottles on your head and kick your ass so bad, you'll be in hospital for a month!!!!"

"Eeek," Alex squealed, trying to free himself from Anton's grasp. "Okay, okay. I'm Billy Hitchcock. I'm also seventeen, I go to Mt Abraham High School, and I live at-."

"ALEX!!!??" A shocked voice shrieked suddenly from behind him. Alex and Tod spun round.

"TOD?!!"

It was Barbara Browning and Linda Waggner. And they looked ready to issue a death sentence.

"M-Mom?" Alex and Tod stuttered pathetically, realising their lives were over.

"What the hell is going on here?!" Barbara demanded. Anton gave a satisfactory smirk and released his grip on Alex's Tee-Shirt.

"I was just about to ask you the same question," Anton said smugly, folding his arms. Tod and Alex however, looked as white as sheets. 

"We were......We were........I mean......Kinda.....If you put it one way we er.......RUNNNNNN!!!!!!!!" Alex yelled at the top of his voice. He grabbed Tod and the two of them made for the back exit of the bar.

"Stop them! Stop those little buggers!" Anton called to nobody in particular. Linda and Barbara could only watch in shock as Alex and Tod disappeared out of the fire exit. Eventually, Linda Waggner turned to Anton, glaring. She folded her arms tightly.

"Would you mind telling us what the hell is going on?" She demanded.

"Are they your sons ladies?"

"Yes they are our bloody sons! We want to know what they're doing here God dammit!"

"They were trying to get a drink," Anton explained in a matter of fact kind of way.

"And?" Linda prompted. "Did you give them one?"

"Yeah. See, I thought-."

"They're only seventeen you blithering idiot!" Linda cried, obviously the one in charge of the situation. "What were you thinking? Are you out of your mind?"

"The blonde kid. He spun me a load of crap about him being called Cletus and working in a potato factory," Anton replied, desperately trying to defend his case. "It wasn't my fault!"

"My boy comes into your bar, you serve him without even asking for any ID, and it _wasn't _your fault?" Barbara Browning scoffed angrily. "You're a bloody disgrace!"

"Listen lady, I'm just trying to earn a living here. When I asked them for their ID they gave me false addresses!"

"Awwwwww, poor you," Linda mocked.

"Those kids aren't allowed back in my bar again! You hear me? EVER! Not even when they _are _over twenty one! They're barred!" Anton roared, using wild hand gestures. "And so are you!" He added in the spur of the moment. "You, and all your family!"

"But me and my husband like to drink here!" Linda protested.

"Well I guess you'll just have to find another bar to get drunk in then, won't you?"

"This isn't fair! I know my rights!" Linda snapped back.

"Tell it to the courts lady. Just get out of my bar!" Anton pointed towards the door, leaving Barbara and Linda no choice but to leave.

The phone rang later that night at the Horton's house.

"Hello?" Kate Horton said as she put the receiver to her ear. "Yes, this is Kate Horton speaking..................What?.....No, no, my son has not been out this evening. NO!................Don't you dare call me a liar!.....Who the hell is this?..........Anton?........No, I was not in your bar earlier today!........You can't speak to me like that!!..........Get lost!....I told you, Carter's been in the house all night! You can't just call me up and tell me he was illegally buying alcohol in your pub! No!.......I'm sorry, I don't know what the hell you're talking about. Goodbye!"

Kate slammed the phone down. 

"Who the hell was that?" David Horton asked as he wandered into the hall.

"Some barman trying to get our little sugarlump into more trouble."

"Kate, I really wish you'd stop calling our son 'sugarlump'. He's seventeen years old!" David replied.

"Yes I know. In fact, I'm sick of being told by everyone that our son is seventeen. What about his sodding birthday? 'Oooooh, he's seventeen!' everybody kept saying. 'Ooooh, fancy that! Seventeen!' Well I've had just about enough of all this 'he's seventeen' crap. I _know _how old my bloody son is! I don't need people to keep reminding me that our precious bloody son is 'seventeen'," Kate ranted huffily.

"Come on Kate, don't be all moody-."

"Oh, I'm not being moody David. After all, Carter is 'seventeen'. He can speak for himself now can't he? He didn't really need me to defend his case like that over the phone did he?!"

By now Kate was raising her voice.

"All right, all right, Calm down, calm down," her husband soothed. He threw back his head and hollered at the top of his voice. "CARTER!!! Get your lazy, bone idle, no good ass in here now!"

Carter appeared in the doorway, stretching and yawning.

"Aw, what now Dad?" he asked. "I'm missing Postman Pat."

"Were you at Anton's tonight?"

"What?"

"Were you at sodding Anton's bloody bar tonight!!!???"

"What? No! No! I've given up alcohol Dad! I swore never to drink again after I woke up in a junior campers uniform on Tuesday! You know that!" Carter shuddered at the thought. "Ugh...Junior Campers," he repeated. "Saying it makes me feel so dirty."

"I know Carty," Kate told him. "But according to Anton, you were there this evening with your friend Billy. That makes sense to us. Billy's in your English class, right?"

"No, no, no, no, no!!! Billy's in my _French_ class! And he's a _dork! _I wouldn't be seen dead with him!" Carter sighed in desparation. "Mom, Dad, you gotta believe me! I was here the whole time!! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease believe me!!!"

By now Carter was down on his knees infront of his parents, practically begging for them to take him seriously. "I know I haven't been a good son sometimes! And I'm sooooooooo sorry! I know it was wrong to steal your credit card to get a new set of wheels! Hell, I knew I was wrong when I knocked you out with a lampshade and ran off with your stereo for a set of fluffy dice! I even knew I was wrong when I came home at midnight, robbed our own house, hit myself over the head a couple of times with a sledgehammer, then drove all the way to California to dump all the stuff and when the cops came round I made out the burglars had beaten me up and threatened me and I said I'd tried to save our stuff but they wouldn't listen and then you believed me and bought me an icecream and........Well, it goes on like that," Carter explained without drawing a breath. "But the point is, I know right from wrong now Dad!! And I would never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, do anything to hurt you!"

Carter got up off his knees and trod on his dad's toe by mistake.

"Owwwwwwwww!" David cried out in pain.

"Starting from now," Carter corrected himself. Kate looked at her son, wondering what to do.

"Well, Carter, honey, sweetie, baby, darling, sugarlump.......I believe you."

A glimmer of hope appeared in Carter's eye.

"You do?"

"I suppose so. This Anton obviously got the wrong guy," his Mum explained.

"Well d'uh?"

"But how the hell could he have got hold of your name and telephone number like that?" David asked, interrupting them.

Carter's face suddenly darkened. "There's only one person malicious enough to frame me," he hissed. "Alex Browning."

"Oh, that aggressive little sod?" David questioned. _They're a bit screwed up this family aren't they? Labelling Alex as an 'aggressive little sod' where as in their opinion Carter is a sweet perfect angel? Jesus Christ Kate and David, see your son for what he really is!!!!! Mind you, I don't know why I'm writing this. After all, I made them into these characters so technically it's my fault. Oh well........._

"That's the one," Carter agreed. "He's always bullying me at school. I wouldn't be surprised if he set me up like this."

"He's the one that jumped out that car and started on you, right honey?" Kate asked.

"Right," Carter replied in an over the top voice. "I think it's time we settled the score, don't you Mother?"

"Yes son, the only way I know how."


	12. Chapter Twelve

"Oh Clear," Billy sighed sadly, clutching the tattered photo of her to his chest. "Why won't you love me?"

He walked over to his bed and sat down on it.

"Is my love for you so wrong?" He asked the photo. "Is it so wrong to want something that feels so right?"

Suddenly, he heard a voice outside the window.

"Billy, oh Billy, where for art thou Billy?" a girls voice cried out. 

"Clear?" Billy asked in disbelief. He walked over to the window and stared down towards the ground. Clear was standing there, staring back up at him, holding a red rose in one hand.

"Yes my love, it is I," Clear replied in a soft, sweet voice. "Billy, throw down your hair. Let me climb up it, through your window, where we can be together, forever."

Billy felt his head, confused. "Throw down my h-hair?"

"I'm hopelessly devoted to you Billy Hitchcock. I need you. I want you. I love you with all my heart," Clear replied passionately. 

"Can't you just use the door like normal people?"

"Billy, time is running out for me. At the stroke of midnight, the devil will take my soul to hell. We must make valuable use of the time we have left together," she explained, not answering Billy's question. "Now throw down your hair, and let me up."

Billy didn't really know what she was talking about, but before he realised what he was doing, he was throwing some long golden hair out of his bedroom window. Tracing along the hair with his hand, he realised that it was from his head. It was his hair. He had long, golden hair.

"What the hell?"

Suddenly, he felt Clear climbing up it, and within a matter of minutes she appeared at the window. Billy reached out and took her by the hands, leading her inside.

He looked down at his clothes. He was wearing a Tuxedo. He looked at Clear. She was no longer wearing her trousers and jacket. She was in a long, beautiful green ball gown.

"Shall we?" Bily asked, his voice suddenly sounding old fashioned. 

Before he knew what was happening, he had taken her in his arms and they were dancing. His room had tranformed into a ball room, and orchestral music was playing. Clear held the rose out to Billy.

"Oh Billy my love," she sighed happily. "This is the best moment of my entire life."

She pulled something out from behind her back. Billy realised it was a bucket of water.

"Clear?" he asked, confused. "What are you doing with that?"

Clear didn't answer. She just giggled and lifted the bucket above his head.

"What the hell are you doing!?"

Then she tipped it all over him. Freezing cold water ran down Billy's back and over his clothes. He struggled to catch his breath, but the temeperature of the water had shocked him and his heart was beating faster.

"Billy," Clear whispered. "Billy, wake up."

"Goddammit boy, wake up!" Mr. Hitchcock yelled, shaking him by the shoulders. Slowly and uncertainly, Billy opened his eyes.

"What the....What the hell are you doing?" He asked weakly, rubbing his eyes.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Mr. Hitchcock questioned him. 

"Sadly, yes," Billy replied, his voice sounding all croaky and hoarse. "Why the hell did you wake me up?!"

"Now now, William, let's not have any of that potty mouth-."

"Potty mouth?" Billy repeated tiredly. "Just tell me what was so important you had to wake me up for it."

"There is, a girl, downstairs William-."

"My name is _Billy._ I really wish you wouldn't keep calling me 'William' all the time," He paused, realising what his Dad had just told him. "A girl? Who?"

"She said her name was Clear," Mr. Hitchcock answered. "Do you want to go see her? Or should I just tell her you're a lazy git and you can't be arsed to get out of bed?"

Billy leapt up immediately.

"No, no, tell her I'll be right down," he replied, running out of the room.

Kate and Carter Horton hid in the bush with their slingshots, waiting. They had got up early just so they could throw eggs at Alex's house.

Kate had dressed them up in army gear, so they were camouflaged. She had put smudges of mud on their faces, and helmets with camouflage colours on. They had even got the black army boots and binoculars.

"Right," Kate Horton announced, peering through the binoculars. "When I say the word, we open fire."

"Yes Drill Seargent!!" Carter shouted, saluting.

"Shhhhhhhh!!!!" Kate hissed in annoyance. "What you trying to do? Wake up the whole bloody street?"

"Sorry Drill Seargent."

"And you can stop calling me Drill Seargent aswell," his Mum told him sharply. 

"Sorry Mother."

"That's more like it."

Suddenly, they heard the sound of a door slamming, and they peered through the bush trying to get a better view. It was Alex. He had just come out of the front door, and he was standing on the porch looking awkward. He looked out across the garden, causing Carter and Kate to duck down out of sight. Luckily, he didn't see them, and turned his back.

"Now!" Kate whispered. Carter put an egg in the slingshot and fired it out across the garden. It missed Alex and splattered on the wall of the house.

"What the?" Alex questioned, turning round slowly. Before he had a chance to react, another egg hit him in the face.

"Bullseye!" Carter cheered, slapping a high five with his Mum.

"Who's there?!" Alex cried angrily, wiping the raw egg from his face. "Who the hell is in the bushes throwing eggs!!?"

"Oh, as if we'd tell you," A muffled voice gloated from inside the bush.

"Who is that?" Alex demanded.

"Your worst nightmare," Carter hissed in a sinister voice, appearing from behind the bush. He started walking towards Alex.

"Why are you doing this Carter?"

"Because, you little runt," Carter said, evilly. "You set me up."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," Alex protested. He slapped himself in the head. "Sorry, I think the record got stuck for a moment......Anyway, I didn't!"

"You did too! You were at Anton's bar and you told him you were called Carter!!"

Alex held up his hands in his defence. "No, that was Tod. I said I was called Billy."

Carter stopped dead in his tracks. He was silent for a moment.

"You did?" he asked, not sure whether to believe it. "Oh, right. Well, that's okay then."

He took a step backwards.

"Sorry mate."

Mrs. Horton suddenly appeared from behind the bush, much to Alex's surprise.

"What the hell is going on here?" Kate hissed to her son.

"We got the wrong guy," Carter replied sounding suspiciously like an FBI agent. "Let's roll."

Before Alex could protest, they had marhed off down the street leaving him stood there covered in raw egg.

"So, Clear," Billy began uncertainly as he stood in the hallway with her. "What the hell are you doing here, after you blew me off last night?"

"You ruined your own chances actually," Clear replied calmly, her hands in her pockets.

"Indeed," Billy sighed, trying to come up with something decent to say. "Indeed I did."

"Billy, I just came round for Alex's number," Clear explained, not wanting to mislead him any longer. Billy looked hurt then, but after a silence he reached for a pen and piece of paper, and without a word scribbled down a number. He held it out to her.

"I'm sorry Billy," Clear apolgised, sensing she'd obviously hurt his feelings.

"No you're not," Billy replied, expressionless.

"But we're still friends right?"

"I guess."

"I'll see myself out," Clear finished, turning away. She reached the door, and for once in this story neither of them did the clasic 'turn for the final word' thing. She actually just went out the door without Billy caling her back or anything. A miracle! Although, maybe it's just because I can't be bothered to drag out his stupid crush any longer.

It was around Lunchtime that day when the phone rang. Alex walked over to it and picked it up, not giving a second thought to who it might be.

"Is that Alex?" A girls voice inquired.

"Who wants to know?" Alex replied rudely. He had been getting quite rude lately. 

"Well, Is it?" the voice persisted.

"I said, who wants to know?" Alex replied impatiently, stuffing a slice of deep-pan pizza into his gob. 

"It's Clear. Is that you Alex?"

"Yes."

"Good," Clear replied, running out of things to say. A long silence followed while Alex muched rudely on his pizza. "You eating?" Clear asked trying to make conversation.

"No, I'm dancing the cha-cha," Alex remarked sarcastically, rolling his eyes and looking at the clock. He hated phones. They were just so gay.

"Er.....Alex?"

"What the bloody hell do you want from me?" Alex snapped for no apparant reason. Clear decided to ignore his attitude and say what she had to say.

"Alex, I think I need to see you."

"What the hell for?"

"I just do. I'll explain later."

"What do you take me for? Some kind of 'going outside to get exercise freak?' You must be kidding me. Alex Browning goes outside for nobody."

"Alex, I mean it," Clear replied sensibly. "Meet me at the coffee shop in half an hour."

"Wha?" Alex replied in shock. "And get off my lazy arse? And actually go out somewhere?"

"Yes."

"Okay," Alex agreed. "See ya later."

He put the phone down and scoffed some more pizza.


End file.
